The Crownless King
by MiserableFleshCreature
Summary: CHAPTER 3 UP. Backed into a corner with both his ride and his reputation on the line, Sebastian must once more take up the mantle of the Crownless King... Rated M for bad language and some violence.
1. 1 Homeward Bound

_Standard Disclaimer_

_I don't own The Fast And The Furious, Universal does. If anyone believes otherwise and decides to sue me, all I have is the wife, and you DON'T want her!_

_This is a story I've had buzzing around in my head for a while now. It is mainly OC, but there will be little references to the movie trilogy (quadrilogy, if rumours are to be believed) here and there. See if you can spot them!_

* * *

**The Fast and the Furious**

**The Crownless King**

An Original Fan Fiction inspired by The Fast and the Furious

Chapter 1

"_God, I need a smoke…"_

Immigration had been an absolute nightmare. Three hours! Three hours wasted waiting in the longest queue he had ever witnessed only served to reinforce his hatred for air travel. Only now, after three bloody hours, did he emerge into the arrivals lounge, seeing his tiredness and annoyance reflected in the faces of the passengers who hustled and bustled past him, eager to return to their homes and their lives.

Even the blind could have seen that he was in a foul mood, a mood that only nicotine would correct. Fishing in his pocket for a desperately needed cigarette, he frowned even harder and cursed silently when he realized he had none. In the palm of his hand lay a Zippo lighter, some loose coinage and some car keys. Twirling the keys around on his finger, a smile of fond recollection grew on his face, the Nissan GT-R key ring glinting gently in the glare of the overhead lights.

Like a hot flush, his desire for a nicotine fix shook him from his reverie, and he glanced quickly around the lounge. Spying a vending machine that dispensed cigarettes, he inserted the last of his change and selected Marlboro Red. Hastily he grabbed the packet from the machine, tearing it open and raising a cigarette to his lips. He inhaled deeply as he lit it, shoulders sagging as he let out a long sigh of contentment, the wispy blue smoke drifting lazily into the air. He forcefully ran a hand through his messy chestnut hair, as if trying to massage the mental torture of customs directly out of his skull.

"_I needed that…"_

As he continued to puff, he retrieved a note of paper from his other pocket and began to read what was written upon it

_I left my Audi at the airport car park for you. Just produce your passport at the office and they'll give you the keys. Your 'Baby' should sail into port a couple of days after you arrive, so be patient! I'll be away on business for a while so you can use my apartment for as long as you want, just make sure you get some groceries because I haven't had time to go food shopping. Take care and I'll see you at the wedding._

_Oliver_

He smiled to himself, Uncle Oliver always came through for him. At least there was just a little bit of good in this whole trip. Something halfway decent to _drive_! Taking the last drag on his Marlboro, he stubbed it out under his heel and started for the car park.

* * *

It was past 9pm by the time he arrived at his uncle's place of residence. Having to deviate into the city to buy food was hardly an unwelcome distraction. It had been over four years since he left town, so checking things out after being away so long sounded like a good idea. Until he got stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic, that was. He didn't feel the need or desire to complain. His uncle had extravagant tastes, which showed in the features of his Audi A8. The cream leather and pine wood interior, GPS navigation and MP3 sound system brought forth a silent chuckle of both appreciation and derision at his uncle's particular brand of automobile self-indulgence. 

Anderson Heights was a visually impressive apartment block, a towering edifice constructed from concrete, glass and chrome perched on a mountain plateau overlooking the nearby bay. Apartments in this building were priced well beyond the norms, only fabulously wealthy people could afford to rent even the cheapest apartment, and his uncle _owned _the penthouse suite.

The grocery bags precariously balanced under his arms made it difficult to retrieve the keycard, but after some readjustment, he finally managed to get the door open before he spilled the contents of the bags all over the floor.

The place itself was exactly how he remembered it, having stayed with his uncle many times as a child. The décor of the apartment was similar to the interior of the Audi, all whites and creams with wood paneling and furniture. He spent the next few minutes unpacking, restocking the refrigerator and cupboards, and putting his limited amount of luggage in the wardrobes, before flopping down on the white leather sofa.

Countless things ran through his mind as he sat alone in the near darkness of the apartment, the only illumination coming from the harbour lights out in the nearby bay. He hoped he wouldn't have to stay too long, the sole reason he came back was for his sister's wedding, which wasn't for at least a month. It was only when Oliver told him about it that he had any inkling that his sister was getting hitched. Four years had passed since he had any communication with any of his family, bar his uncle, and during those years he had been determined to ensure that they could not find or contact him. It had taken much deliberation on his part to come to the decision to return. He couldn't begin to imagine how much hurt he had caused them, it wasn't their fault that he upped and left when they needed him the most, and nervous apprehension filled him at the thought of finally seeing them again.

He took a quick glance at his watch. It read 9.45pm. Jet lag was starting to take its toll, his eyelids were heavy, and the embrace of sleep was starting to slip over him. There was a little something he needed to do first, however, so he picked up the phone off the table and dialed a number. It rang for a few seconds before the other end picked up.

"Yo?"

"Momo?" he asked hesitantly.

"Who dis?"

"Seb…"

"Ho' shee-it!" The voice on the other end exclaimed loudly. "Seb! Where da hell yah been, bruh?!"

"Taking care of business," Sebastian answered quietly, deliberately. "Suffice to say I'm back in town for a while."

"Yah need summa da good stuff right?" Momo laughed in response. "Yah were always my best customer, lost a lotta business when yah jumped ship like dat. Yah picked da right day ta call, bruh. Got some fresh shit. Same amount as usual?"

"Indeed," Sebastian said. "Are you still at the same address?"

"Nah, bruh. Got myself my own crib down on Bluelake. Number 20."

"Okay, I'll be there shortly."

"Peace…"

* * *

"Sorry ta hear bout yah mom, bruh…" Momo said as Sebastian entered his apartment. "Yah sistah said yah took it real bad when she died." 

"Yes," Sebastian replied morosely. "You don't know the half of it…"

"Its good ta see yah again, bruh. C'mon in 'n take a load off."

The two young men sat down in Momo's living room. On the table lay a large pile of cannabis, some electronic weighing scales and a pile of small plastic bags.

"So where yah been bruh?" Momo enquired as he measured out varying amounts of the green drug. "Been 'bout four years since I saw yah last."

"I just drove around," Sebastian mumbled. "I needed to be alone. Away from everyone and everything. I just roamed for a while, all over the world actually. I only came back for my sister's wedding."

"Which one?" A mischievous glint shone in Momo's eye.

"Helena."

"Hot damn!" Momo whooped. "Give my congrats ta da lucky sonovabitch who managed ta wifey her."

Finished with the weighing, Momo tossed Sebastian a freshly rolled blunt.

"Hit dat shit, yo…"

"Thanks." Sebastian lit up and inhaled a lungful, the cannabis almost instantly smashing him with its buzz. As they spoke, reminiscing about times gone by, they were abruptly disturbed by the muffled but still perfectly audible banging and raised voices that suddenly came from the ceiling.

"Not again, man!" Momo threw his hands in the air and grimaced.

"What?" Sebastian was curious.

"Sum punk ass dat lives upstairs," Momo explained with exasperation evident in his tone. "Always beefing wit his girl. Dat's da third night inna row."

"Right…"

"I dunno wat goes on in dat homie's head, bruh," Momo continued. "He's got one _super_ fine honey, but he don't treat her right. If she was my shorty, I sure as hell wouldn't let _her_ go to waste..."

"Speaking of going," Sebastian cut in, rising to his feet. "I've got to leave. Fourteen hour flights take their toll."

"No worries, bruh. Here."

Momo threw Sebastian a large white bag. The two men then shook hands and shared a friendly embrace.

"Anytime yah need a hit, let me know, bruh."

"Thanks Momo."

As soon as Sebastian closed the door to Momo's place and turned to walk away, a fast moving bundle of _something_, black and brown in colour, came hurtling down the stairwell and slammed straight into his chest. Instinctively Sebastian stepped back to steady himself, his arms coming up and grasping this something to prevent it from falling. Whatever it was that crashed into him was human sized and human shaped, and judging by its height and mass, he reasoned it was a girl.

She was a fair few inches shorter than him, the top of her head just under the level of his shoulders. Her long dark hair fell about her shoulders, and she was clad in a long black coat. She looked up at him, and he saw that she was extremely pretty, and although she appeared to be Caucasian, he could tell from her features that she was partly of exotic parentage or ancestry, maybe Japanese or Korean. For an instant their eyes met, hers red and stinging, full of tears, mascara and eyeliner smudged around the edges.

"I'm sorry," the girl sniffed, her voice cracking as she attempted to hide her face.

"Don't worry about it," Sebastian reassured her, "Accidents happen…"

From the top of the stairwell, a man appeared. His left cheek was a bright red hue, the trademark of a stinging slap, and livid scratch marks criss-crossed his face and exposed upper arms. He took one look at Sebastian and the girl, and predictably exploded.

"You still here, bitch?!?" The man screamed, his face contorted in undisguised rage. "Get the fuck outta here! I don't wanna see your face around here again!"

"Fuck you!" The girl hissed back. "Go back to that slut of yours!"

In a flash, the man came rushing down the steps, arms outstretched, poised to grip the girl's throat. Equally as fast, Sebastian placed himself between them.

"Think twice, my friend," Sebastian held his arms out in a non-threatening posture, blocking the man's path to the girl.

"I _ain't_ your 'friend', buddy," The man responded, his voice dripping with violent intent. "And _this_ ain't any of your business."

"That's true," Sebastian nodded, unfazed by the man's aggressive manner. "But it's late and I'm sure the rest of this building doesn't want to hear us beating seven bells out of each other. You don't honestly think I'm just going to stand here and watch you strangle a girl half your size, do you?"

From the look in Sebastian's eyes, the man could see he was serious despite the calm and even tone in his voice. A few uneasy moments passed, before the man spun on his heels and walked back up the stairs.

"Fuck her." He threw it as a parting shot, not even turning, waving his hand dismissively, "She'll keep…"

Sebastian let out a long breath of relief as he watched the man disappear up the stairwell. He was glad things didn't have to get physical; he wasn't really up for a fight, tired as he was.

"I'm glad that didn't get ugly, don't you think…"

As he turned to face the girl, he stopped in surprise. Save for him, the stairwell was empty.

He could see her now, moving along the pavement. He was quite impressed by the distance she had covered after bolting the way she did; he had been driving for about a minute or so and he could have sworn she was wearing high heeled shoes. Her walking pace was rather slow now however so Sebastian eased off the accelerator pedal, shifting down the gears and letting inertia carry the car forward. Moving up alongside the girl, Sebastian lowered the passenger side window.

"Excuse me?" He called out. "Are you alright?"

She didn't stop, turn, or even acknowledge his presence. Unperturbed, Sebastian continued to coast alongside her. It was raining hard now, the light drizzle that was just starting when Sebastian entered Momo's place had swiftly become a full-blown torrential downpour. He also noticed that the girl was carrying her shoes in her hand, one of them having a broken and useless heel.

"Hey!" Sebastian honked the horn as he brought the Audi to a halt and the girl promptly stopped.

She came to over to the Audi, lowering her head to the open passenger window. The rain had soaked her right though, her dark locks matted to the contours of her face.

"What do you want?" The girl asked curtly.

"Let me give you a lift," Sebastian offered. He didn't know why, but suddenly he had the urgent desire to help this girl. Maybe it was the weed…

"No thanks," the girl declined. "You've done enough already."

"Come on, seriously. It's pouring. You can't walk in this rain, especially with no shoes."

It was obvious to her that walking home in this deluge was a very unattractive option. Sensing progress, Sebastian pressed a little further.

"Where do you have to go?

"Greenfield," she answered.

"See, I have to drive through there. It's far to walk."

She didn't respond, and just stood there, seeming to mull over his offer. After about a minute without reply, Sebastian simply shrugged. He wasn't going to push her. He didn't know her, she didn't know him. It was certainly a long shot to expect her to just get in the car with some complete stranger, no matter how chivalrous he may appear.

"Okay, look," Sebastian said, "I can understand if you don't want a lift, at least let me give you an umbrella so you don't get soaked any further."

Sebastian pulled an umbrella off the Audi's back seat and offered it to her through the open window. The girl moved to take the umbrella, but as her hand closed around it, she seemed to hesitate.

"How do I know you won't kidnap me," the girl asked. "Or that you won't drive me to the woods and rape me?"

"What do you take me for?" Sebastian couldn't believe she was serious, but his voice carried no indication of offence or outrage. "Some sort of kerb-crawling rapist? Have it your way then…"

Sebastian withdrew the umbrella, tossing it over his shoulder and hit the button to raise the passenger window. Just as his hand hovered over the gearshift, he was interrupted by frantic finger tapping on glass. Her fingers curled over the rim of the window as Sebastian lowered it again.

"I take it you've reconsidered?"

"Okay," the girl finally nodded. "I'll take that offer."

"Okay," Sebastian flicked the switch that unlocked the passenger door, bidding her enter.

He was trying to stay focused on the road, but every so often he would steal a sideways glance at his passenger, just to make sure she was really all right, more than anything else. It was easy to understand why she had been quiet and reluctant to talk, but he had been driving for a full twenty minutes and she hadn't uttered a single word, no matter how many times he pressed her. She just lay there, curled up in the chair, her back to him like she was asleep. He reasoned she was tired, and not just physically. She was still sopping wet though, and he found himself hoping that the leather of the seat wouldn't be too badly damaged. Oliver would be sure to bitch him out...

"She's going to have to talk to me sometime," Sebastian voiced his thoughts out loud without realizing. "If she wants me to let her out in the right place."

Almost immediately, he felt her eyes upon him.

"I'm sorry…" She finally said.

"It's alright."

"No it's not," she continued, "I didn't thank you for what you did back there."

"No need," Sebastian shook his head. "I'm sure anyone else would have done the same. Besides, I can appreciate your intolerance of my gender right now. Your boyfriend doesn't seem like the loving and tender type."

"He used to be," The brunette muttered, the tears threatening to well up again. "Until he started winning the races... Then he started cheating on me with those race skanks. I really loved him, but lately I guess he just stopped caring... People would always tell me he was cheating, but I didn't want to believe it. Then tonight I caught him with his pants down... Literally..."

"Then he is a fool," Sebastian concluded, never taking his eyes off the road ahead. "If he could disregard your feelings for him, then he wasn't worthy of receiving them to begin with. He doesn't sound like a very clever person if he allowed himself to be caught in the act, so maybe you're better off without him."

"You know, it's funny." She began with a slight smile, idly running her slender fingers up and down the supple leather of the seat. "Here I am accepting a ride from a complete stranger and spilling my guts to him about my failed relationship. I don't even know your name."

"Maybe strangers make the best listeners," Sebastian offered. "But, for the record, my name is Seb... Short for Sebastian."

"I'm Naomi."

"Nice to meet you Naomi," he reached over with his right hand and offered it to her. Her hand was cold and clammy to the touch so he switched on the heater. As he did so, she quickly unbuttoned her heavy and waterlogged overcoat before tossing it onto the back seat.

Underneath said coat she wore a camouflage green v-neck t-shirt with a matching miniskirt. Both items of clothing featured the trademark triple parallel stripes of the Adidas label, their burnished gold colour contrasting nicely with the green of the material.

Sebastian had spent some time in the Far East and to him; the girls there were amongst the most beautiful women he'd ever been fortunate enough to behold. Naomi was one hell of a fine example, and Sebastian surrendered to his basic male impulses, taking the opportunity that he lost before to make a more detailed inspection.

She ran her hand through her damp, matted hair, trying to extricate any remaining moisture from her locks. Granted, it looked like shit now because of the rain, but it had looked stunning when he first laid eyes on her in the stairwell. Long, wavy, and jet-black, falling about her head and shoulders in a cascade of silky darkness. Her face was a portrait of statuesque beauty, the kind that a lot of other women would gladly part with cold, hard cash to obtain.

Without instruction from his brain, his eyes continued their journey south. They were drawn to the pinpricks of light reflecting from the delicate silver chain around her neck, the attached crystalline pendant resting at the peak of her ample cleavage. She was quite well endowed, but not disproportionate. Moving further down, slender, toned legs emerged from beneath her skirt, ending in small, dainty feet. The remains of her broken heels lay next to them in the foot well.

"Sorry," Sebastian apologized, snapping out of his ogling session. Hopefully she didn't notice him eyeing her up. "Maybe I should have switched the heating on earlier."

"Its okay," Naomi reassured him. She hadn't appeared to notice. "This is a nice car."

"It does the job," Sebastian answered with a slight air of nonchalance.

"Are you from around here?" She inquired, shifting her body around in her seat to face toward him.

"I'm just staying with an uncle," Sebastian told her. "I'm here on some family business."

"Does that family business include playing white knight to damsels in distress?"

Sebastian couldn't suppress a smile.

"Not really, women aren't one of my strong points."

"Come on, don't say that," Naomi chided. "You're a good-looking guy, English accent, good manners, nice ride…Girls go for that kind of thing."

"You would think…" Sebastian mused. He had an expression of genuine regret on his face. "That the qualities you describe would appeal to women. They've never worked for me…Maybe I just don't know how to use them to my advantage."

Sebastian mentally slapped himself after those words left his lips. He must be stoned as fuck. What the bloody hell was he doing? He didn't know this girl from Eve, and yet here he was giving her insight into his relationship history! She probably thought he was being witty or self-pitying or charming or modest or whatever personality traits the world associated with the English character.

What surprised him the most was that when he spoke, he was being completely open and honest. Sebastian was in no way a liar, but he wasn't exactly the most warm and friendly person either. Who was she to deserve such openness from him? Sebastian had never been emotionally expressive; some people he had met would label him as cold, unfeeling, non-verbal…

In the end, he decided that his loose tongue was down to how gorgeous she was. He wasn't lying when he told her he was shit with girls. Sure, good looks, money, nice cars and good manners were indeed advantageous in the pursuit of women, but being confident and comfortable in their company was equally important. Sebastian possessed plenty of the former, but little, if any, of the latter. Still, he'd spoken more words to her in the last thirty minutes than he had to any one girl in the last four years and in his mind that was progress enough.

Stopping at a red light, Sebastian took another quick look at her as he waited for the signal to change. She was holding a cosmetic's compact up in front of her face, re-applying her spoiled make-up. Her eyes were still slightly red, but she seemed over the worst of her distress. Content the she was in a better state now than when he picked her up; he put the car into gear and accelerated past the now green traffic light.

* * *

"Turn in here…" 

Sebastian did as instructed, turning the wheel in the direction of Naomi's pointing finger. The Audi turned off the street, dipped down a ramp and emerged out into an underground car park. Naomi pointed over to an empty space over on Sebastian's right.

"Park there, Next to the Beemer."

Occupying the space next to the empty one was a heavily customized BMW Z4M Coupe Convertible. Decked out with an iridescent red and pink paint job and elaborate vinyls, Sebastian whistled in appreciation.

"Nice car, is it yours?"

"It belongs to my roommate; she must be back early…" Naomi said, opening the passenger door. She turned to face him before she exited the car proper.

"Listen… If you're staying in town and you've got some free time… Maybe we could meet up? I'd like to say thanks for the ride."

"That sounds good,"

"I work at Silky Smooth," Naomi continued. "It's a club down on Whitesand Boulevard. Come on Saturday night and I'll fix you a drink."

"Silky Smooth on Saturday night it is then," Sebastian agreed.

"Good," Naomi said, getting out of the car. "Bye, bye Sebastian…"

He watched her as she walked across the garage floor toward the nearby elevator, her shapely hips sashaying elegantly from side to side. The elevator car was already there, the doors opening almost as soon as the call button was pressed. She flashed him a smile as she disappeared into the waiting machine. A smaller, but similar smile was etched on Sebastian's features as he reversed out of the parking space.

"_Maybe coming back wasn't so bad after all…"_

* * *

No less than twenty minutes after Sebastian's departure, the sound of another car filled the once quiet parking area. The BMW M3 GTR that descended the ramp was also heavily customized, scintillating blue merging into midnight black in a complex but aesthetically pleasing pattern over its streamlined body kit. The BMW turned into the space next to its smaller compatriot, the powerful engine revving up a few times before falling to a dull throbbing sound as the driver shut off the car. 

Grabbing a thick roll of bank notes from the dashboard, the driver opened the door and got out of the car. Tall, with lightly tanned skin and gelled dark hair, he wore a black shirt with dark leather pants. He strode purposefully across the car park, remembering to activate the BMW's alarm system, before getting into the elevator.

* * *

Naomi stood in front of the bathroom mirror clad in a cream dressing gown, rubbing her freshly washed hair with a towel. Thoughts of the young man who had saved her from the violent intent of her ex and given her a ride home occupied her mind. A smile broke out over her face as she remembered how he would give her sideways glances when he thought her attention was elsewhere, and the flush of embarrassment that would rise in his cheeks after he did so, as if he was admonishing himself for being a pervert and ogling some girl he just met. 

Thoughts of his cheeks logically progressed to thoughts of his entire face. Judging by his physical size and deepness of voice coupled with his obvious driving ability, she guessed that Sebastian was probably around the early to mid-twenties mark. He was boyishly handsome, like a teenager. Not one wrinkle, not one sign of crow's feet, no beard or five-o'clock shadow marred his features. He would probably look that way for years to come, if Time was kind to him.

She studied her own reflection in the mirror as she continued her personal grooming. She was indeed beautiful, the fruit of a union between a Japanese mother and an American father. She had the almond-shaped eyes, raven-black hair and pale complexion of the Japanese, but her bust and curves were more befitting a Western female.

Suddenly, a frown grew on her reflection's brow. She'd just split up with her boyfriend, and the fact that she perfectly welcomed and enjoyed having another guy check her out made feel just a little twinge of guilt. Said guilt was quickly erased when she thought about the circumstances. If Walsh was too much of a dick to appreciate what she had to offer and another guy did; then fuck Walsh. Sebastian's wandering eyes had done much to soothe her wounded ego.

"Sounds good," a female voice suddenly called from beyond the open bathroom door, jarring Naomi away from her thoughts. "What did you say his name was?"

"Sebastian," Naomi shouted as she left the bathroom, padding silently down the short corridor that led to the living room. Sitting on the couch, attention focused on the music video playing out on the television in front of her, was another girl. She had long, flaxen blonde hair, and was wearing a red tank top and pink shorts, her knees drawn up to her chest. A tub of ice cream lay of the sofa next to her, and she took a spoonful every so often. At the same time, they heard a key turning in the front door, and after a moment the driver of the BMW entered the room.

"How are my two favourite girls this fine evening?" The man beamed jovially, wearing an expression that told them he was well pleased with himself.

"Hi, Tobias," Naomi greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, baby," the girl on the couch reached up with her arms. Tobias moved over to her, leaning down to receive her embrace together with a sharp, but passionate kiss.

"Nice," Tobias grinned, licking his lips. "Chocolate Chip flavour Marissa."

"I'm always sweet for you, baby," Marissa answered, refocusing on the television. Tobias walked over to Naomi, who was now combing her hair. He leant down, snaking his arms around her shoulders from behind, his lips lightly brushed her cheek.

"How you doing tonight, Naomi?"

"I'm okay," Naomi smiled.

"She dumped Walsh…" Marissa muttered through a mouthful of ice cream. "Got herself a new man, too! All in the same night! I didn't think she could work it _that _fast…"

Naomi poked her tongue out at the perceived slight. Marissa just smirked.

"No shit?!?" Tobias' eyes widened in surprise and he released Naomi, rising to his full height. "Bout time…Walsh is a good driver, but I never liked how he let all those race skanks drool all over him. Egotistical sonovabitch. I always thought Naomi was too hot for him anyway."

Naomi smiled at the compliment as Tobias planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Talking of races," Marissa piped up again. "You're back early?"

"Yeah, just one tonight." Tobias grinned, brandishing the wad of banknotes. "Smoked some punk thinking his Mustang was the bomb. Earned a couple'a stacks too."

Tobias leant against the back of the sofa, reaching down for the ice cream tub. Marissa took umbrage with this, and for a few moments they playfully fought over the dessert, before Tobias settled for sticking his finger in the tub and scooping some out.

"So who is this new man of yours, Naomi," Tobias licked the ice cream off his finger. "Anyone we know?"

"I met him today," Naomi explained. "His name is Sebastian."

"Sebastian?" Tobias curiosity was instantly piqued and for an instant, a flash of recognition passed over his face. Naomi either didn't see or didn't understand this look, but when Tobias looked at Marissa, he saw the same recognition on her face also, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I'm going to meet him at the club on Saturday night," Naomi continued. "I want to introduce him to you guys too. He seems like a nice guy"

Tobias nodded. If this 'Sebastian' Naomi was talking about was the same 'Sebastian' he was thinking about, Saturday night would be very interesting indeed….

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

_Well there it is! Chapter One! Hope you like it and please reveiw if you want to! Second chapter coming soon!_


	2. 2 Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

_Standard Disclaimer_

_NO! I do not own The Fast and the Furious. You know that, I know that. If it wasn't for that pesky little thing c__a__lled Copyright Infringement, I wouldn't insult your intelligence by even writing this Standard Disclaimer._

_Hello to everyone at and welcome __again __to the adventures of the Crownless King. It's taken a long time coming, the usual maladies (writer's block, work, dying PC's, the wife, etc) wreaking havoc with my writing time, but the 2nd chapter is ready for your reading pleasure._

_Big thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter. I was initially thinking my story wouldn't be so well received considering it contains none of the movie characters, but your comments have given me the incentive to carry on. I hope my story continues to __fulfill__ your expectations!_

_Without further ado, on with the show!_

* * *

**The Fast and the Furious**

**The Crownless King**

An Original Fan Fiction inspired by The Fast and the Furious

Chapter 2

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie/Old Habits Are Hard To Break

_"God, I fucking hate this…"_

Sebastian grimaced at the foul taste of bile that currently filled his mouth. Depressing the flush mechanism on the toilet, he observed with grim satisfaction as the mixture of stomach fluids and the remains of last night's meal swirled around in the bowl, before disappearing completely.

Moving over to the bathroom sink, Sebastian ran the cold tap, scooping handfuls of cool water down his gullet to wash away the lingering flavour of vomit that still remained. Splashing some of the water over his face, clearing away the film of perspiration that covered his skin, Sebastian looked in the mirror, and the reflection that stared back at him was one he'd gotten quite used to over the last few years. His auburn hair, usually styled so immaculately, was an unadulterated mess, slick with cold sweat. His eyes were heavy-lidded and wildly bloodshot, a combination of sleep deprivation and Momo's choice blend of psychoactive agents.

Dejected, Sebastian weakly shook his head. The nightmares still plagued him, and although their frequency had decreased, the same could not be said of their intensity. This was not the first time he'd abruptly woken in the early hours with the urgent need to regurgitate after a particularly horrifying dream. Even after he'd awoken, he'd close his eyes for mere seconds and the images would be there… They were so real, so grotesque...

Sebastian had reached his limit, to the point where he would attempt to avoid going to sleep at all costs. He had become dependent, almost addicted, to stimulants; energy drinks and caffeine pills being unintentional favourites. Unfortunately, the human body could not survive without sleep, and thus Sebastian could not fully escape his night terrors.

Remembering to activate the extractor fan to remove the disgusting stench that still permeated the air, Sebastian left the bathroom and made his way to the lounge. Slumping down on the sofa, he noticed the half finished blunt that remained in the ashtray. He also noticed the ornate antique clock on the mantelpiece that read 05.55am. He'd managed five hours sleep tonight and that would have to be enough. Raising the blunt to his lips and lighting it, Sebastian decided to spend the waking hours seeking solace in mind-altering substances…

* * *

"That'll be 10.50, buddy…"

Sebastian clambered out of the taxicab, placing a pair of stylish Ray-Bans on his nose to protect his already sensitive eyes from the intense brilliance of the midday sun. Moving around to the driver's window, Sebastian reached into his pocket and withdrew a fresh twenty.

"Keep the change," Sebastian offered.

"Thanks buddy!"

Grateful for being paid virtually double the usual fare, the driver flashed Sebastian a quick thumbs-up as he pulled away, leaving Sebastian outside his intended destination, Overton Docks.

After they had called earlier this morning, informing him that his goods had finally arrived, Sebastian had taken a taxi down there. Taking taxis was an ordeal that Sebastian rarely had to go through, for two distinct reasons. The first, and most obvious, reason was that he owned his own car, and that he was going to collect said car. No matter how good a driver Sebastian thought he was, one cannot drive two cars at the same time. The second reason, far less apparent, was that Sebastian was so wealthy; he never really had to suffer the more mundane forms of transportation the less financially blessed used every day.

It all stemmed from his name. Not many people were aware of it, but Sebastian's full name was Sebastian Pardue II. His father, Sebastian Pardue Senior, was a ruthless corporate bigwig solely responsible for building several super-successful worldwide businesses from the ground up. The Pardue family name commanded a vast amount of wealth, Sebastian's personal fortune measuring in the millions, placed in trust for him when he was a child to be accessed when he turned eighteen. Even before then, he'd wanted for nothing.

But he didn't care much for money now, only spending as needed, to keep himself clothed and fed. His one most cherished possession, his one true indulgence, was the Nissan Skyline R34 GT-R V-Spec II Nur awaiting its master at the docks. He couldn't describe the attachment he felt towards his car; one could say it was almost an obsession for him. He remembered back to when he was a child, when he'd idly picked up the Import Tuner magazine that was on the table in his uncle's home, the eight page spread on the Japanese sports car instantly grabbing his attention. From that moment, he could not be separated from that magazine, and he swore to himself that a silver R34 lay somewhere in his future. When he did finally purchase his Skyline, the fact that it was a limited edition model was an even sweeter bonus.

He treated the Skyline as one would treat their lover, always wanting them by their side and lavishing them with gifts and affection. When possible or practical, Sebastian would take the Skyline everywhere, whether he was driving it or shipping it via sea or air. Upgraded with top-of-the-range aftermarket performance parts and touched only by the tools of the best mechanics, Sebastian felt that his car should, and deserved to, perform to the best of its ability.

Tingling with anticipation at the thought of getting behind the wheel of his dream machine, Sebastian adjusted his shades before making his way over to the entrance.

* * *

_"There she is! __My Baby!"_

After what seemed like an age wandering around the busy docks, through row after row of containers, cars, small boats and other vehicles, he'd finally laid eyes on his treasure. Gleaming metallic silver, riding on 20'' chrome Yokohama RGII rims and wearing the clean, aerodynamic lines of the C-West N1 Version II body kit, Sebastian's Skyline was done up sleeper style. No gaudy paint jobs or using his car as mobile product placement, as these superficial decorations did not alter the car's performance in any way. Sebastian was a practitioner of the 'Art of Making Your Car Go Faster At All Costs', so anything not causing a significant change in the car's performance, or anything adding dead weight, was deemed unnecessary and completely ignored.

Stepping around to the rear of the car, Sebastian unlocked the trunk, opening the hatch and taking out a petrol can. Emptying the contents of the can into the fuel tank, Sebastian then carefully placed it back in the trunk and closed the hatch, before moving around to the driver's door.

Slipping effortlessly into the molded Sparco bucket seat, Sebastian shifted his weight slightly to get fully comfortable, reaching over his shoulders for the four-point harness straps. Inserting the keys into the ignition, Sebastian beamed happily as the Skyline came to life, the vibrations from the power plant sending shivers of excitement racing up and down his spine.

The interior of the Skyline was almost as barren as the exterior was plain, almost akin to sitting in a sardine tin with a steering wheel. In accordance with The Art, Sebastian had removed all non-essential components in the pursuit of the highest velocity possible. The upholstery and interior paneling had been taken out, replaced with a roll cage to maintain the car's structural integrity. The windows had been changed from glass to lighter plastic. The side passenger seat was still present, but the rear seats had been ripped out, three very large and very illegal nitrous oxide tanks taking their place. Combined with the highly modified RB26DETT N1 turbocharged engine, Sebastian's Skyline was capable of some quite mind-boggling speeds.

Sebastian ran a critical eye over the multitude of gauges and LCD screens that dotted the Skyline's interior, their illuminated displays showing elaborate graphical representations of the car's internal workings. Satisfied that everything was in order, Sebastian shifted into gear and coasted toward the exit, heading for the main road.

_"Baby, lets you and me go for a ride…"_

* * *

The Skyline roared its power as Sebastian expertly manipulated the car's controls, arms and legs moving in a well-practiced and coordinated motion. The thrumming of the engine as he pressed the accelerator flat to the board, the distinctive '_Pshh_' of the blow-off valve as he worked the transmission; it was like a symphony to his ears. The white lane markings zipped under the chassis as the Skyline ate up the tarmac, the intense acceleration pressing him into his seat.

Sebastian lowered his window, allowing the breeze to whip through the cockpit, gulping down lungfuls of the clear ocean air. He was currently driving along the major highway that ran through Column Bay, a seaside area of town he used to frequent when he was younger. The highway itself was long and more or less completely straight, much like the Wangan in Tokyo, stretching for a fair few miles before winding up into the mountains. He smiled warmly, remembering the late nights he used to spend on this highway route, using it as his personal drag strip and racing circuit.

Easing off the pedals, Sebastian kept the speedometer needle just twitching under 80 mph: there was no need to break the established speed limit and alert the local constabulary. While he cruised, he also kept a close eye on the instrumentation. Although none of them were too serious, there had been instances in the past of the Skyline being damaged in transit. Fortunately this was not one of those times, as every dial and display showed the car was running like clockwork.

Sebastian's satisfaction was soon cut short however, cursing as the dashboard 'low fuel' indicator caught his attention, pulsing blood red at regular intervals. Now that he thought about it, the fuel can had felt lighter than he remembered, and going by the fuel gauge, there wasn't a lot left in the tank. He wouldn't get very far on that, the Skyline's appetite for fuel was as excessive as its speed.

Salvation appeared on the horizon in the red and orange colours of an ENEOS petrol station. Approaching the turn-off, Sebastian checked his mirrors before braking and shifting to the outside lane. Guiding the car up the entry ramp and onto the forecourt, Sebastian brought the Skyline to a halt next to an unused unleaded pump. Shutting of the engine, Sebastian reached into his trouser pocket and produced a wad of crumpled banknotes. Counting out enough cash to completely fill the tank, Sebastian stepped out of the car, stretching limbs that had become stiff from driving.

Moving over to the fuel pump, Sebastian immediately clapped eyes on the sunfire yellow Nissan Skyline R34 GT-R sitting idle at the pump opposite. It had the boxy, angular shape of the Aero-Tech Japan BNR34 body kit, and a large midnight black stripe ran over hood, roof and trunk. Numerous multicoloured decals, depicting the names of various aftermarket companies, were plastered all and sundry. Colour scheme and decals apart, Sebastian was quite impressed.

He would soon find that the driver was equally as impressive. Striding confidently across the forecourt, with long blonde hair and a figure akin to a Coca-Cola bottle, she took stock of Sebastian and his car as she stopped by her driver's door.

"Nice car," she smiled sweetly, nodding toward the silver Japanese sports car.

"And yours also," Sebastian responded in kind.

Inserting the fuel hose nozzle into his Skyline and pulling the trigger to initiate the refueling process, Sebastian watched as the blonde moved to sit in her driver's seat. Suddenly she stood up sharply, pointing accusingly at him over the roof of her car, her face a mask of shocked surprise.

"Hey! I know you! You're Crownless, ain't cha?"

"Pardon?"

"I remember you," the blonde chattered excitedly, as if confronted with celebrity. "English guy riding a silver C-West Skyline sleeper style. It's definitely you! You're Crownless!"

Sebastian's expression soured. He really didn't like that name.

"This is so cool!" The blonde was now wearing a wide, conspiratorial grin that clearly said _'I know something you don't!_' "Wait 'til the others hear about this! Crownless is back in town!"

Without so much as a farewell gesture, the girl jumped into her car and gunned the engine. With the screeching of tires, the yellow Skyline sped off the forecourt and onto the highway, rapidly disappearing into the distance.

Sebastian just shrugged. It was only a matter of time before he bumped into another street-racer type who recognized him. As much as he used to despise being called Crownless, to be addressed by that name after such a long time bought an unexpected, but brief, feeling of nostalgia. But his main concern was avoiding having to demonstrate why he was called that particular name, now that the street-racing gossip machine had word of his presence in the neighbourhood...

* * *

"Two J.D.'s n' Coke…"

"Raspberry Smirnoff, please…"

"Tequila! Four shots, babe!"

Naomi was swamped near off her feet and rapidly nearing the end of her tether. Saturday night behind the bar at Silky Smooth was always hectic but tonight the club was packed full to burst. She'd never seen the place so jammed before.

Silky Smooth was the prime stomping ground for the nights before the mornings after of the local street-racing community. They congregated here every weekend; row upon row of slick, customized rides adorning the beachfront road outside. But tonight they were here en masse; it was near impossible for Naomi to see more than a few feet past the bar.

It was weird. From what she'd heard over the loud, bassy hip-hop tunes, from snippets of shouted conversation at the bar, it seemed there was a strange rumour going around. Apparently, there was this guy called the 'Crownless King', who was supposed to be the absolute god of the street-racers, never ever been beaten, lady killer looks, yada yada yada… Apparently, some girl racer had bumped into him out by Column Bay, and since the club was the place to be, the mere possibility of this Crownless King's appearance had drawn all the speed freaks here like flies to shit.

Naomi didn't know all the details. She didn't really pay attention to the myths and legends of the street-racing world. Although she always hung around with Marissa and Tobias, who were basically the King and Queen of the Streets, she wasn't all that clued up with the more technical aspects of pimping one's ride. It was the atmosphere that drew her, the constant parties, being surrounded by people out to have a good time was a thrill in itself.

She looked down at her wrist, the hands on her watch reading 10.55PM. Even though it was only five minutes until the end of her shift, she glared vehemently at her timepiece, wishing she possessed the power to alter the flow of time through sheer willpower alone.

Her expected company hadn't arrived yet, and Naomi was beginning to think she'd been stood up. She was genuinely upset; Sebastian had seemed like such a nice guy and all. She was really looking forward to seeing him after work, and she'd be lying to herself if she weren't hoping for more than just a drink with him.

Suddenly, the phrase 'speak of the devil' popped into Naomi's mind as, after serving yet another customer, she spied Sebastian sitting at the far end of the bar. She had to do a double take, as he wasn't there just a second ago, having seemingly appeared from nowhere. It was definitely Sebastian, as he acknowledged her with a small wave.

"Hi!" Naomi bounded happily toward Sebastian's end of the bar, her spirits instantly lifted at his eventual arrival. "I'm so glad you could come!"

Sebastian looked slightly taken aback, as if he was unprepared for the level of excitement that he seemed to be generating in her.

"I hope I'm not too late," Sebastian apologized. "It took me ten minutes just to push my way through the crowd to get to the bar."

"That's okay," Naomi dismissed his apologies with a wave of the hand. "In fact you've got great timing, I'm about to get off now. You want something to drink?"

"A Red Bull, please… Straight from the can will be fine."

"You sure you don't want something a bit stronger?"

"No, thank you," Sebastian made a steering wheel motion in the air with his hands. "I'm driving, remember?"

Naomi reached down to the small fridge at her feet and took out a can of the energy drink, popping the top as she handed it to Sebastian. Propping her elbows on the surface of the bar, Naomi leaned in closer to him so she wouldn't have to shout too loudly over the music.

"Listen," she started. "How're you fixed for the rest of the night?"

"Apart from meeting you," Sebastian said, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't have any other plans. Why?"

"I want to get out of these clothes, do my face…. Would you wait for me while I get changed? I won't be long, I promise…"

"It's no trouble… Take your time…"

"Great!" Naomi smiled. She moved away from him, disappearing through a door behind the bar marked 'Employees Only'.

Once she had gone, Sebastian wished he hadn't agreed to wait. Every time he looked around, he could see people whispering and pointing in his direction, their stares boring into him like laser beams.

As soon as he pulled up outside, he knew it was a bad move to come here. Initially, he had been quite intrigued, as he'd never heard of a club called Silky Smooth, logically reasoning that it must have opened while he was away. But as soon as saw the multitudes of tricked out rides parked outside, it was then that he realized Silky Smooth was the last place he wanted to be. He should have known that Naomi would have had some sort of affiliation with the racing scene, considering the fact she mentioned that her ex was a racer and that her best friend drove a rather snazzy looking BMW Z4.

As he was looking for a parking spot, he could see the amassed throng of racers giving him and his car the 'Newbie Stare'; waves of contempt and derision being directed at this unknown newcomer in a plain silver Skyline barging in uninvited on their patch. It was only when he'd actually got out of his car, where the crowd could see him clearly, that the mocking laughs faded, to be replaced by expressions of awe and fear when it dawned on them exactly who they were looking at.

They had parted like the Red Sea as Sebastian walked among them toward the entrance of the club, their hushed whispers ringing like sirens in his ears. No one had the balls to step up to him and say something; such was the strength of his reputation alone. He thought that once he'd gotten inside, he would try and blend in with the crowd. But it was a false hope, once the word got round that he was in attendance, he could expect them to descend upon him like vultures to a corpse.

Still, Sebastian was the type that always honoured his agreements. And Naomi was certainly not the type of girl that one just stands up. So Sebastian huddled closer to his drink, focusing solely on the blue and silver can before him on the bar, wishing that she Naomi would return quickly.

Eventually Sebastian felt a tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was some star-struck racer about to interrogate him, he steeled himself for the inevitable barrage of questions about to be fired his way, He turned on his stool, and what stood before him made Sebastian want to thank God for blessing him with the gift of sight.

Gone were the simple white blouse and black trousers that she wore for work, the jet-black spaghetti strap mini-dress that was draped over her supple frame was infinitely more appealing to the eye; tight in all the right places, plunging neckline, split at the thigh, hem way above the knee. Her lovely dark hair, which Sebastian found utterly fascinating, spilled around her shoulders; released from the French twist she had tied it in previously. She didn't use too much make-up, a bit of eye shadow here, a bit of lipstick there... All in all, Naomi looked absolutely stunning, so much so that Sebastian found himself bereft of speech.

"Thanks for waiting," Naomi smiled.

Once the connection between his brain and his vocal cords had re-established itself, Sebastian hopped off his stool, offering it to Naomi in a gentlemanly fashion.

"P… Please, sit," Sebastian managed to get out, wide eyed in captivation. "Y… You look amazing, by the way…"

"Much better than last time, I hope," Naomi quipped, blushing slightly as she placed herself on the barstool, secretly pleased that she was having this effect on Sebastian.

Sebastian nodded his agreement, leaning back against the bar. "I trust you've managed to resolve the issue with your ex? I can't be around all the time, you know…"

"Don't worry about that," Naomi smiled at the little joke. "Walsh talks a lot of crap, but he doesn't follow through. At least, not when it comes to me…. Anyway, enough about me… How are you?"

"Fine, thank you… Yourself?"

"I'm good, I'm good," She nodded. "Just glad to get out from behind this bar. It's been _so_ busy today!"

"I've never seen this place before," Sebastian mused, looking around him. The club was very impressive, plasma screens and neon lights everywhere. Scantily clad racer-chasers infested the place like vermin, an altogether criminal amount of flesh on display. Although the music wasn't suited to his particular tastes, he could easily see that the club was a very popular and frequented establishment.

"How long have you been working here?"

"This place opened up about two or three years ago," Naomi explained. "I just work here part time, on Saturday nights. A little extra cash always helps…"

As he listened to Naomi talk, Sebastian's hand went to his pocket to retrieve his pack of cigarettes. Taking one out for himself, he presented her with the open end of the packet, offering her one. She waved her hand to decline, an expression of distaste directed at the offending sticks of potential lung cancer.

"No thanks," She was polite, but couldn't completely mask her revulsion. "I don't know how people can go around slowly killing themselves…"

Out of common decency, Sebastian returned his unlit cigarette to the packet, which he placed back in his pocket.

"Unfortunately," Sebastian remarked. "Everyone has their vices…"

* * *

One of Marissa's particular vices was the colour red. Of all the hues and shades visible to the human eye, of all the colours of the spectrum, red was her favourite. She couldn't say why, the colour holding some sort of primal attraction for her, but when she could choose the colour of something, she would choose red.

Her prized BMW Z4 was sprayed iridescent red; the lipstick applied to her full, luscious lips was Cherry Red; the Gucci mini-dress that clung to and emphasized every curve of her gorgeous figure was Venetian Red; even her Nokia multimedia mobile phone's chrome casing was tinted red.

It was this little piece of Finnish gadgetry that she currently held to her ear, her shapely rear planted firmly on the hood of her BMW, parked outside Silky Smooth. She tapped her high-heeled foot on the ground, impatiently awaiting an answer from the other end of the phone line.

"_Yo_?"

"It's me," Marissa said. "You were right, Tobi... It is Seb…"

"_Are you sure_?" Tobias' voice was laced with skepticism. "_No kidding around now, Marissa_…"

"Trust me," Marissa drawled in a sugary-sweet tone. "I'm looking at the Skyline right now. Same plates, same body kit, everything... Unless you know another Sebastian who's English and rides a silver Skyline, I think we've got our man."

"_You seen__ Walsh around_?"

"Not yet… If Seb is here, he'd better not be when that asshole does show up. Walsh'll go crazy if he catches Seb sniffing around Naomi."

"_That's exactly what I want to happen_,"

"What the hell for?!?" Marissa was outraged. She was all for pulling a surprise reunion with Sebastian, but potentially getting him hurt wasn't what she had in mind. "I know he was a complete dick for running out on us, but he doesn't deserve an ass-kicking for it. He had his own problems, remember?"

"_Yeah, I remember. Don't worry, if I know Walsh, it won't even get that far. But, if __Seb__ can still live up to his name, I think he can do us all a __favour__... Just make sure Walsh sees __Seb__ 'n' Naomi together_…"

* * *

"…Back in school, I was into anything to do with sports or physical activity. I was in the school gymnastics and swim teams, and when I graduated from university I got a job out here, teaching dance, yoga and aerobics at the local health centre…"

Now Sebastian knew where Naomi got such a fantastic figure.

"So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Come on," Naomi prodded. "We've met twice now and all I know about you is that your name is Sebastian and you're from England. You drive a really nice car and you like to help out girls in trouble. Tell me a little more about yourself."

Touchy subject… He didn't want to divulge too much, but since she'd made a perfectly legitimate request, he didn't want to lie either. After all, she'd been doing most of the talking so it was only fair Sebastian reveal a little about himself.

"There's not much to tell, really. I was actually born here, but I was sent to school in England at a young age. After I finished my education I worked in the family business as a chauffeur. At the moment I'm taking a well-deserved holiday."

"Chauffeur, huh?" Naomi grinned at the irony. "I have to admit that kind of suits you. Ever drive anyone famous?"

"It's not as glamourous as it sounds," Sebastian said with a wry smile. "Mainly corporate types on business. I'm just a glorified taxi driver. It's a good thing I like the driving itself otherwise I would've given it up ages ago..."

It was at that moment that the club DJ decided to spin a new track. Sebastian didn't care much for the relentless stream of hip-hop and R'N'B that assaulted his ears, but this new track provoked a significantly more enthusiastic response from Naomi. Stepping quickly but carefully down from the barstool, she wrapped both her arms around one of his, tugging him in the direction of the dance floor.

"I _love_ this song!" she squealed excitedly. "Come and dance with me!"

"Well," Sebastian was instantly uneasy at the prospect of doing so. "This isn't really the sort of music I prefer…"

"What kind of lame excuse is that? Come on!"

Before he could vocalize any further protests, Sebastian was suddenly yanked into the sea of bodies that surrounded them, Naomi dragging him along with one arm while herding people out of her path with the other. Not that Sebastian was complaining, however, since Naomi's rear view was just as hot as the front. The little black number that she called a dress was also backless, and just above her cute little bottom, a neat row of Japanese kanji symbols were tattooed horizontally across the base of her spine. He didn't have a clue what they meant, but they were rather interesting to look at.

Once Naomi had found a spot on the dance floor that she deemed adequate, she turned to face him, releasing her hold on his limb. Locking eyes with him, a slight smile playing on her lips, she began to dance. Slowly at first, but as the song built up pace, Sebastian found himself concentrating more on Naomi rather than his own movements.

Sebastian just couldn't tear his eyes away. He'd seen girls who could give professional dancers a run for their money when it came to shaking their asses, but Naomi was something else entirely. It was like he was a subdued cobra, utterly entranced by the hypnotic swaying of the charmer's flute. The way she moved, her hands tracing the contours of her body, he could swear the music was physically touching her, caressing her like a lover and guiding her movements with seductive precision. All the while she never broke eye contact with him, her chocolate brown eyes gazing deep into his stormy grey, dancing for him and only him, oblivious to those around her, Sebastian completely under her spell.

His breath caught in his throat as she spun round and pressed herself up against him, grinding her hips against his own. He felt her grip close around his wrists, and then it was the turn for Sebastian's hands to receive a guided tour of Naomi-Land. She kept him away from her most private places, but she didn't appear to have a problem with Sebastian's feeling her up considering their level of familiarity. The differing sensations of the smooth material of her dress against the intense warmth rising from her exposed flesh, the alluring fragrance of her perfume assailing his nostrils, she was almost too hot to handle. Since he was taller than her, he didn't dare look downwards, otherwise the view he would get down the front of her dress would send his self-restraint out the window.

So when the song finally ended, when Naomi gently extricated herself from his embrace, Sebastian didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Relieved that he could get his rising testosterone levels under control, or disappointed that she'd ended the closest physical contact he'd had with a girl for a long time. But then her arms came up around his neck, linking behind his head. She propped herself up on tiptoes, gently pulling him down, bringing his ear to her lips.

"Oh, Mr. Chauffeur..." Sebastian really liked the way she said that, all husky and seductive. Her hot breath tickling his ear sent tingles down his spine. "I've been on my feet all night and I'm really tired..."

"And here I was thinking I was on holiday," Sebastian smiled. "But since it's you, I don't mind."

"You are such a gentleman! I just want to grab my stuff, use the bathroom..."

"I'll wait for you outside. I need to have a cigarette to calm my nerves after that. That dance was fantastic…"

"You weren't so bad yourself… Better than you think…"

"I shall take that as high praise… It isn't easy dancing with a dance instructor, especially one as attractive as you..."

"You know," Naomi had a sly smile on her face despite the slight blush in her cheeks from Sebastian's compliment. "I think you were lying when you said you were bad with women…"

"What makes you say that?" Sebastian asked, a confused look beginning to creep over his face.

"Like I said," Naomi winked, before turning to walk away. "You're better than you think…"

_

* * *

_

_"See, __Pardue__? That wasn't so bad, was it? Nothing to worry about…"_

Sebastian chuckled lightly to himself as he walked across the car park toward his Skyline. Not so bad? Fucking hell, that girl was hot! He swore that he'd have the image of Naomi's dancing burnt into his brain for the rest of his mortal days. Indeed, things had gone much better than he'd thought…

He didn't personally know any Japanese females, but from his few trips there Sebastian got the impression that they were a rather timid and demure lot, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that Naomi didn't conform to his perception. She appeared to be a very friendly and outgoing kind of girl, a stark contrast to the understandably sullen and subdued disposition she exhibited when he first met her. She seemed very mature and levelheaded, a far cry from the superficial racer-chasers usually associated with the racing scene. _And that body_! Dear _God_, he didn't even want to start thinking about that, lest his secondary brain come online and override his primary brain's commands. Naomi definitely fulfilled his criteria for being girlfriend material; Sebastian just couldn't understand how Walsh could be such a total halfwit in cheating on her. The man must have taken leave of his senses to mess about with a girl of her obvious calibre.

Sebastian's only dilemma was whether or not he should even pursue a relationship with Naomi. He was fairly sure that she was attracted to him, the show she just put on pretty much confirming that belief; and he couldn't deny that he was mutually attracted to her. The proverbial spanner in the works was that, once Helena's wedding was over, Sebastian had no plans on staying in town. Even though the ceremony itself wasn't for a good few weeks, Sebastian didn't want to lead Naomi on during the intervening time.

Lighting the cigarette he denied himself earlier, Sebastian leant against the side of the Skyline as he waited for Naomi to finish whatever mysterious things girls did when they went to the bathroom. Suddenly his train of thought was broken when he noticed the red BMW parked directly across from him, the same Z4 Convertible that was parked at Naomi's home. Exterior styling by the boys at AC Schnitzer, it really was an impressive looking motor vehicle. But the look of the car wasn't the cause of the butterflies in Sebastian's stomach. When he saw it before, the Z4's rear was facing the wall of the car park, so he couldn't see the registration. Now that it was parked the other way around, his eyes were solely fixated on the now visible licence plate.

_"Jesus Christ! RVU... 231J... That's..."_

"So now you like your girls like you like your rides? Don't us blondes get a chance anymore, Seb?"

The cigarette dropped soundlessly to the ground as Sebastian's mouth fell open in complete and utter shock. Whirling around to face the Skyline's rear, where the sound of the voice came from, he laid eyes on the Z4's owner.

_"I don't believe it... It i__**s**__ her..."_

Marissa stood there, leaning against the Skyline's spoiler; smiling coyly at him exactly the same way she did when he saw her for the very first time. Silently she stared at him, her bright blue eyes holding his gaze, demanding his answer. Sebastian could remember a time where he wanted nothing more than to lose himself gazing into those eyes…. A time where if the cost of one intimate moment with her were his entire fortune, he'd have gladly paid without a second thought. All thoughts of Naomi were instantly banished; Marissa commanded his full and undivided attention with nothing more than her mere presence.

_She_ was the one that got away... The one girl that he'd ever _truly_ desired….

"M… Marissa..." He could barely speak her name; amazed that even after all this time she could still wield such power over him.

Marissa Bryant... The same Marissa Bryant that for the last four years had graced his dreams and haunted his nightmares…

Sebastian could do nothing but gape wordlessly as Marissa moved to his side of the car, her fingers trailing lightly against the Skyline's rear quarter panel as she cast an approving glance over the silver automobile. His brain just couldn't, more like wouldn't, accept what his eyes were seeing... Marissa was really here! For the last four years, he'd tried to convince himself that he was over her; that so much time away would enable him to forget how he felt about her... But the worst lie one can tell is the lie you tell yourself…

"Y'know, I didn't believe Naomi when she said she met you," Marissa started, running her hand over the Skyline's roof as she walked up to Sebastian. Her tone was stern, but he could detect the undercurrent of sadness and hurt that lay beneath. "But then I saw Mr GT-R sitting here and I thought 'That _asshole really is back_.' I thought '_No way would that asshole really show up here_.' But here you are..."

"What do you want me to say, Marissa?" Sebastian turned away from her, unable to give Marissa an answer. He hadn't formulated an explanation beforehand, and her sudden appearance had caught him off his guard. "I told you why I had to leave. I came and told you personally, if you remember."

"Yeah, I remember. That's why I'm not mad."

Surprised, Sebastian looked round to see Marissa standing there with arms outstretched wide, inviting him to embrace her.

"Gimme a hug!"

"What?"

"I haven't seen you in four years!" Marissa admonished him playfully, petulantly stamping her foot upon the ground. "I wanna hug!"

Hesitantly, Sebastian bought his arms up. He was afraid to touch her, as if he didn't quite believe she was really standing before him, as if she were made from glass and would break on contact. For her part, sensing his reluctance, Marissa leapt into his arms, squeezing him tight with a strength he never knew she possessed. Sebastian suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of contentment as he held the blonde close to him, her head on his chest, his cheek resting on top of her head. Anyone witnessing such an embrace would liken it to one shared by two long lost lovers, re-united after a long and painful separation.

"I've missed you so much, Seb…" Marissa's voice was cracking, as if she were about to burst into tears.

"I missed you as well," Sebastian spoke softly. "I'm glad to see you…"

"Are you now?" Marissa suddenly released him, firmly removing his arms from around her body. She folded her arms across her chest, fixing him with a withering glare that said 'You're in trouble now, boy!'

"What do you mean?" He'd seen that look before and usually things didn't bode well for him when he did.

"If you're so glad to see me, then what the hell are you doing here trying to get into my best friend panties?!"

Marissa burst out laughing at Sebastian's stupefied expression. Some things never change…

"W...What do you mean?" Sebastian stammered, face reddening. This was just like old times, where he would crumble under the onslaught of Marissa's teasing. Sebastian was no verbal masochist, but when Marissa would laugh, he thought the smile on her face was the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Oh yeah," Marissa continued without mercy. "Naomi told us all about you. '_He's so cute! He's such a nice guy_!' Blah, blah, blah…. Since when did you get a chivalry injection, huh?"

"I… I… just helped her out of a tight spot, that's all…" Sebastian explained weakly, trying to regain his composure. "She invited me here for a drink to repay me…"

"You are so effin' priceless!" Marissa giggled. "You haven't changed one bit! You still suck when it comes getting laid…. You think a drink was the only thing Naomi invited you here for?"

"We haven't seen each other in four years," Sebastian lowered his head in defeat, but he had a smile on his face all the same. "And the first thing you do is tease me… It's good to see you haven't changed either..."

"You wouldn't want me any other way, Seb…"

"So, where is Tobias?" Sebastian asked. "I take it you're still together?"

"Still goin' strong." Marissa nodded. "He'll be here soon. He's gonna bust a nut when he sees you!"

"And you and Naomi are best friends," Sebastian mused. "It really is a small world…"

"Yeah, she rooms with me. She gets cheap rent; I get a free fitness trainer. Helps with the ol' modelling career…"

That made sense to Sebastian, Marissa always having been proud of her looks, almost to a fault.

"Speaking of Naomi," The tone of Marissa's voice plus the mischievous curl in her lips told Sebastian she was back in teasing mode. "What gear did she let you shift to?"

"Don't start this again! She's supposed to be your best friend for goodness' sake!"

"C'mon Seb! Don't be shy!" Marissa pinched Sebastian's cheek. "I bet she gave you the Dance, right?"

"The What?"

"You know… The Dance…"

Marissa came close again, taking up the exact same position that Naomi had occupied earlier, her back to him pressing into his chest. As Marissa took his hands in hers to place them on her hips, Sebastian caught a glimpse of the approaching Naomi out of the corner of his eye.

"She's coming, you know," Sebastian whispered into Marissa's ear.

He couldn't resist a smile as Marissa jumped away from him as if he were carrying the most contagious and virulent plague known to man. Naomi stepped up to them, a quizzical expression on her features.

"What's going on?"

"Whassup, Chica?" Marissa moved to Naomi's side, slipping an arm around the brunette's waist. "I was just talking to your new man here… He's a hot one alright…"

"That's not what it looked like to me Marissa..." Naomi's cheeks flushed; obviously she was embarrassed by Marissa's designation of Sebastian being her 'new man', but she tried to keep her voice level. Even though Naomi knew deep down that Marissa would never try anything on with her 'new man', she couldn't guarantee that the blonde would not sway Sebastian's attentions. Marissa was a damn _model _for God's sake! Put a single guy within visual range of her and they were instantly hooked! Marissa was no cheat, but she loved male attention and was an incorrigible flirt. The way guys would unashamedly drool over her, it was a good thing that she was going out with Tobias, or Marissa would probably have to get a couple of restraining orders issued.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Chica!" Marissa laughed at Naomi's discomfort. "Me and Sebastian here go way back."

"Yeah, right!" Naomi scoffed. "I wasn't born yesterday, Marissa…"

"So how do you think I know who he is without you introducing him to me then?"

"It's true," Sebastian interjected. "Marissa is an old friend of mine. From when I used to live around here..."

Once again the embarrassment rose in Naomi's cheeks.

"You gotta get that green streak under control, Naomi…" Marissa wrapped her arm around Naomi's shoulders in mock encouragement, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Whatever…" Naomi muttered darkly. Annoyed, she turned to Sebastian. "Can we go now?"

"Where are you going?" Marissa's question was directed at both Naomi and Sebastian. She was genuinely interested, but she was also heeding Tobias' earlier instruction. She hadn't seen Walsh yet.

"Sebastian's giving me a ride home," Naomi said, her head swiveling from side to side as if searching for something. Mystified, she turned back to Sebastian. "Where's the car?"

"That's his ride right there…" Marissa pointed at the Skyline, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Naomi looked at the Skyline, and then back at Sebastian, puzzlement etched on her features. Sebastian had an expression on his face not unlike a small child about to be punished for doing something naughty.

"That's not an Audi…" Naomi stated the obvious. Sebastian didn't like the way she said it. Accusingly…

"I never said the Audi belonged to me…" Sebastian answered truthfully.

"Wait a sec!" Marissa chose her moment to jump in. "What? Seb? You mean you never told her?"

"Told me what?" Naomi asked.

"You see this Skyline right here…" Marissa parked her behind on the Skyline's hood, patting its metallic skin warmly. "This GT-R is the most badass rice-burner you've ever seen! With Crownless at the wheel, it'll smoke anythin' this side of the planet!"

There was that name again! Come to think of it, Naomi had noticed the odd looks the usual race-freaks were shooting Sebastian earlier, but she put that down to him being new to the place. But if Marissa used that name in direct reference to him…

"You mean this 'Crownless King' everyone's been talking about is you?"

Curse Marissa and her loose tongue! That was one thing Sebastian wished she'd learned to curb in his absence. He could have explained away the absence of the black Audi, but he really didn't want Naomi to know about the whole 'Crownless' thing.

"That's what people used to call me…" Sebastian answered Naomi reluctantly, his expression giving her the impression that he wasn't too comfortable being addressed by that name.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a racer?"

"Because racing is something I gave up a long time ago." Sebastian said bluntly, letting Naomi know that it would be wise to drop this line of questioning. Sebastian walked around to the other side of the silver Nissan and opened the driver's door. "If you want to leave, let's go."

As Naomi opened the passenger door, Marissa put a hand on the brunette's shoulder to prevent her from entering the car.

"Don't go yet!" Marissa protested. "Tobi's on his way! Stick around, huh?"

"I'm tired Marissa!" Naomi moaned, swatting Marissa's hand away. Sebastian had already started up the engine, indicating his insistence on their departure. "I had three classes today plus my late shift here. Right now all I want is a bath and my bed…"

"Marissa!" Sebastian called out to her from within the car. "Tell Tobias to hang around. I'll take Naomi home, and then I'll come back here…"

Climbing into the Skyline, Naomi pulled the door closed, leaving Marissa standing there as Sebastian pulled out of his space and turned toward the highway. They had travelled not even five car lengths when Sebastian suddenly shifted his right foot from the accelerator to the brake, bringing the Skyline to an abrupt and immediate halt, a sharp screech coming from the tyres. It was fortunate that Sebastian was only at a slow cruise otherwise both of them could have suffered a nasty case of whiplash. Barely feet in front of the Nissan's bumper, two other cars had suddenly broken ranks from the rows of parked vehicles either side of the Skyline, intersecting and blocking their path.

"Are you alright?" Sebastian's immediate concern was Naomi, anxious to know if the brunette had been injured.

"I'm okay..."

"What kind of idiots just pull out like that?" Sebastian's attention switched back to the cause of their obstruction. Angered, his right hand went to the door handle, but Naomi reached across and pulled him back, preventing him from getting out.

"Don't!" Naomi warned him, shaking her head.

Sebastian didn't know, nor care, whom the two offending vehicles belonged to, but Naomi recognised them straight away. Custom yellow Pontiac GTO on the left, crimson 2006 Mustang GT on the right. Fisher and Minto, the two sycophantic wasters that slavishly followed Walsh around like fawning lapdogs. Naomi looked in the rear-view mirror, and her heart sank as the familiar sight of Walsh's platinum silver Corvette ZO6 came into view, stopping behind them and completely cutting off their escape.

"May I ask what is going on here?" Sebastian asked, confused.

"It's Walsh…" Naomi hissed, pointing behind her out the rear window.

Sebastian's eyes went to the wing mirror. He watched as Walsh stepped out of his car and stalked toward his side of the Skyline, growing ominously larger in the glass. Within moments he was at Sebastian's door, his smirking face appearing at the open window.

"Y'know, Brit Boy," Walsh sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "This is one of those times where y'need t'be _real_ clear on what you say…"

"What are you doing, Walsh?!?" Naomi yelled, her face the epitome of fury. "This has got nothing to do with you!"

"I ain't talkin' t'you. I'm talkin' to the punk…" Walsh snapped back. "Where you goin' with my girl, punk?"

"Naomi asked me for a lift home." Sebastian pushed through gritted teeth, trying to keep his temper in check despite Walsh's insult.

Walsh reached down and pulled the Skyline's door open, inviting Sebastian to disembark.

"Get out…" Walsh ordered.

"What are you going to do, Walsh?" Naomi asked fearfully, afraid for Sebastian's safety.

"I just wanna talk to the punk…"

Sebastian turned to Naomi with a reassuring glance. "It's fine…"

Walsh took a step back as Sebastian swung his legs out of the car and stood to his full height. Noses barely an inch apart, the two men stared each other down, each seeking any sign of weakness in the other's eyes. Walsh's two flunkies came up and flanked him, adding weight to his effort in intimidating Sebastian. By this time, the crowd of racers who were outside the club had congregated on their position, alarmed and curious at events unfolding before them.

"You got balls, Brit Boy!" Walsh smiled evilly. "The first time, I could let it slide… But you must be either _real _brave or _real_ stupid to think you can just roll up in here and touch what don't belong to you…"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Sebastian said firmly, his calm countenance betraying no sign of being at all affected by neither his three aggressors nor the mass throng that encircled them. "But Naomi invited me here."

"What? You think I give a shit?" Walsh asked with mock incredulity, playing up to the surrounding crowd. "Not only d'you mess with my girl, you think you can mess with the Boss's Girl as well?!? You got some kinda death wish?!"

A loud and ominous 'Ooh' arose from the crowd.

"The Boss's Girl?" Sebastian asked innocently. "I take it you mean Marissa Bryant?"

"No duh, Sherlock!" Fisher laughed mockingly at Sebastian's ignorance, a laugh echoed by the crowd.

"She's an old friend of mine…" Sebastian said.

"_We're_ Marissa's friends," Minto chimed in. "And we don't know you!"

"You made a bad move coming here, punk…" Walsh sneered, jabbing Sebastian directly in the chest with his forefinger. "Usually we'd give you an ass-kicking so bad that we'd have to call the hospital in advance and reserve you a bed... But I have to say, that sweet-looking GT-R there just saved your life…"

Sebastian glanced down at his Skyline. "What do you mean?"

"You think you can take what's mine," Walsh continued. "So I'm gonna take what's yours. We blaze. Right here, right now. For slips…"

The assembled crowd howled their enthusiasm for this course of action in a chorus of 'Yeahs!'

"Are you crazy?" Naomi had gotten out of the car. "What are you talking about?!"

"Look," Sebastian was starting to lose his cool now, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke. His anger was rising steadily but he had to exercise restraint. Although he had complete confidence in his own prowess when it came to a fight 'mano-a-mano', he didn't exactly need to be a gambler to see that three versus one were not favourable odds.

"If you have a problem with Naomi spending time with me," Sebastian said. "Then I will solve the problem right now by taking my leave. Your issues are none of my business, and I'm certainly not looking for a fight. And you can forget that street-race idea right now because that is not going to happen..."

"Whassamatter, Brit Boy?" Walsh laughed. His annoying voice was really starting to grate on Sebastian's nerves. "You don't sound so cocky now, huh? Lost your balls, punk? "

"Think what you like." Sebastian shot back, moving to sit back in the seat. Walsh reached forward and grabbed Sebastian by the front of his shirt, preventing him from getting back in the car.

"Not so fast!" Walsh growled right in Sebastian's face. "You don't just get to walk away, punk. Either we race or you get to keep that hospital appointment…"

Before Sebastian could respond to Walsh's direct threat of violence, a loud cheer broke from the crowd, everyone present directing their attention away from the physical fight about to occur and toward the far side of the car park. Obviously, something or someone of even greater importance had arrived. The crowd quickly moved toward the origin of the disturbance, and simultaneously Sebastian, Naomi and Walsh followed them with their eyes.

Drawing the crowd behind it like some kind of human wedding gown, the blue and black BMW M3 GT-R cruised among the rows, other racers cheering and whooping at its passing. Jets of nitrous oxide gas sprayed fiercely from beneath the front wheel arches as the driver repeatedly revved the engine, giving the impression that the car was some king of snarling, raging metal beast begging to be unleashed.

"Looks like the Boss is here," Walsh grinned, still gripping Sebastian firmly. "Why don't we see what the Boss has t'say 'bout this…"

Fisher and Minto dove back into their cars, reversing them back into their spaces to allow the German sports car to coast right up to them, blasting out a last couple of NOS jets for dramatic effect. Sebastian didn't need to guess the identity of the driver, he knew exactly who the 'Boss' was.

Sebastian couldn't help but smile as Tobias emerged from the BMW to rapturous cheers, opening his arms wide, basking in the adulation of his admirers. Hi-fives here, shaking hands there, Tobias greeted his fellow racers as if he were celebrity, mobile phone cameras flashing furiously as a cacophony of female voices screamed his name in hysterical excitement.

Turning his attention to the two men standing by the Skyline, a frown grew upon Tobias' brow as he noticed Walsh's manhandling of Sebastian. From somewhere within the crowd, Marissa emerged, rushing over to her lover and whispering something in his ear. Tobias appeared to mull over whatever Marissa told him, eyes flicking between Sebastian and the blonde as she spoke, before nodding and advancing toward the Skyline.

"Let him go, Walsh," Tobias commanded. "I thought I told you to play nice with the newbies…"

"You won't be sayin' that when you hear what this punk's been up to," Walsh answered, reluctantly releasing his handful of Ralph Lauren shirt. "Strolling about like he owns the place, messing with _your_ woman _and_ mine! I threw down the challenge, but this punk ain't got the balls…."

Sebastian remained silent as Tobias stepped right up to him. Tobias looked him up and down, before a wide smile started to grow on his face.

"Long time no see, Pardue!" Tobias greeted. "It's been a while, huh bro?"

"Indeed…" Sebastian responded, "That was quite an entrance. I see you've risen up in the world."

"I always said I'd be famous…"

Once again that contented feeling washed over Sebastian as he and Tobias embraced like the old friends they were, glad beyond measure that his closest friends were still alive and kicking. Just as he told Marissa, Sebastian had missed them greatly, Tobias and the blonde comprising his entire social circle before he left town.

"How you doin', Girl?" Tobias spoke directly to the Skyline, stroking the car as one would a beloved family pet. "I hope you been treatin' her right since you been gone, Pardue. I'll bust your ass if you ain't!"

"She's still got it," Sebastian smiled confidently. "She'll have that BMW for breakfast."

"So where the hell you been, Pardue?" Tobias asked the $64.000 question. "Four years is a helluva long time to jump ship 'n' disappear. I hope you haven't been running round givin' me a bad rep…"

"Hold on a damn minute!" Walsh chose now to verbally express the bewilderment that was written all over his face. "Are you tellin' me that you actually know this punk?"

"Walsh, you really are something!" Marissa, who had moved over to where Naomi was standing, was trying not to laugh at Walsh's ignorance. "You really have no idea!"

"She's right," Tobias agreed. "Y'really need to show a little more respect, Walsh."

"What the fuck you talkin' about, Lawson." Walsh was annoyed now; furious that Tobias had not delivered unto Sebastian the treatment he was hoping for. In the hierarchy of their little world, only Tobias was higher than he, and Walsh did not care much for being mocked.

"This punk…" Tobias started. "Is the guy that used to ride shotgun with me."

"C'mon Walsh," Marissa continued, her tone not unlike that of a teacher instructing a child. "You musta heard the rumour, right? About that kick-ass driver with the silver Skyline?"

"That's right y'all!" Tobias shouted to the crowd, wrapping an arm around Sebastian's shoulders and turning him to face their onlookers, parading him for their inspection like he was a piece of prime meat. "Take a good look! None of y'all got shit on m'man right here! For you newbies who don't have a clue, this guy here is the epitome of street racing ass-kickery, second only to yours truly… And he's as close to family as it gets for me. Some of y'all mighta even heard of him… This guy here is my good buddy Seb Pardue, AKA Crownless!"

Sebastian sighed deeply as the crowd released their not unexpected gasps of surprise, sounding just the chat-show audience reacting to some fantastic and shocking secret that had just been revealed. Their excited twittering sounded like the buzzing of gnats in Sebastian's ears as bursts of light flashed from the camera phones, all of them eager for a picture of the great Crownless. In his mind, he could just imagine what they were saying,

_"Holy shit!"_

_"Is that really the dude?!"_

_"That's Crownless!?"_

_"Who the fuck is Crownless?!"_

_"He is beautiful!"_

_"I like his haircut!"_

_"He __don't__ look like shit __ta__ me…"_

_"That's a hundred you owe me! I told you it was him!"_

"Did you have to do that?" Sebastian hissed in Tobias' ear.

"What're you complaining for, Pardue?" Tobias grinned, patting Sebastian's shoulder encouragingly. "You're just as famous 'round here as I am. It's their chance to see the legendary Crownless King in the flesh. You should enjoy it! But then again, you were never the one who craved the spotlight, were you?"

"Exactly…" Sebastian agreed. "Wasn't that the whole irony about the name to start with?"

"_Crownless King_?" Walsh piped up again, like an itch that wouldn't go away no matter how many times it was scratched, "What kinda stupid name is that?"

"My sentiments exactly…" Sebastian muttered sarcastically.

"I don't give a fuck who this guy is!" Walsh roared, nearly apoplectic with rage. "I want his ass on a plate, and if I can't have that then I want that GT-R. I don't give a rat's ass whether he's your best pal or not! _No one_ comes in here and makes a fool outta me! No fuckin' way!"

"That's right," Marissa said. "Apparently you did that yourself when you let Naomi catch you with another girl's lips 'round your dick…"

"Shut up, Catwalk Slut!" Walsh shot back as Marissa poked her tongue out at him.

"Tobias, do something!" Naomi pleaded.

"Whaddaya want me to do 'bout it?" Tobias shrugged his shoulders. "This is Walsh 'n' Pardue's problem. Ain't got nothing to do with me…"

"C'mon Tobias," Marissa said. "Quit kidding around…"

"Okay, okay…" Tobias relented, turning to Sebastian. "Well, Pardue… Seems that you've been touchin' stuff you shouldn't be… I know we go way back and all, but things have changed since you been gone, man. You might think Walsh is a prick, but he's my boy, and if you got beef with my boy, you got beef with me…"

Sebastian nodded. Despite his' apologetic tone and gestures, Sebastian could understand Tobias' position. He had no right to expect any aid from his old friend; he pretty much flushed that privilege down the toilet when he abandoned him four years back. Maybe things had changed, apparently more than Sebastian had bargained for.

"But, I can't ignore the fact that_ you_ used to be my boy," Tobias continued. "And I don't wanna see you get hurt. So I'm gonna give you the same choice, just like I always do… Smart boy like you should make the right one… Besides, I don't think these fine people here will wanna leave tonight without seeing the legend in action."

The crowd screamed their agreement, chanting Tobias' name like a bad episode of Jerry Springer.

"And if I'm not?" Sebastian ventured defiantly. "What if that smart boy isn't so smart anymore?"

"Then I'm gonna do what I came to this club to do," Tobias grinned. "Grab a Corona and party the night away. It ain't personal Pardue, you and Marissa are old pals so I can let that go. But messing with Naomi ain't the smartest thing you ever did. These guys are really gonna go to town on your ass…"

Sebastian weighed his options. Take on three guys in a bout of fisticuffs or one guy in an illegal road race. Both had a ridiculously high chance of winding him up in the nearest Intensive Care Unit, but as stupid as it sounded, Sebastian knew he had more chance of avoiding that hospital visit behind the wheel of his Skyline.

"What are you doing Tobi?!" Naomi demanded. She was really mad now, her face red and eyes blazing with anger. "You're supposed to stop this, not promote it you moron! I'm not some trophy for you guys to fight over!"

"I thought you were all for us boys settling our differences without fighting," Tobias pointed out. "Besides, it's all up to Pardue whether he walks out of here still breathing or not…"

"C'mon Crownless! What's with the whole pussy act?!" Marissa goaded. The knowing smile on her lips said that she could easily predict the exact effect her words would have on Sebastian. "You know you can smoke this guy, or have you gone soft since you been gone, huh?"

If one could hear Sebastian's mental processes, they would have heard an instant and sharp cracking as he finally relented. He could withstand any kind of teasing, goading, intimidation or whatever from Tobias, Walsh and his cronies or even the chat-show crowd. But, like most males, once a girl gets involved, resistance soon crumbles. And Sebastian was always weak when it came to Marissa. Still, she had a valid point. Although the name 'Crownless' had certain negative connotations, the word 'King' was not tagged on the end for no good reason.

"Fine…" Sebastian conceded defeat.

"Sebastian!" Naomi charged around to his side of the car, grabbing Sebastian by his shirt, pleading in her eyes as she looked up at him. "You don't have to do this! Just walk away!"

"I would if I could," Sebastian gave her a sad smile, gently removing her hands from his clothing. "But it appears that I won't have the legs to walk away _with_ unless I agree…"

"You might be a punk," Walsh laughed, despite the obvious contempt he had for Sebastian. "But I gotta hand it to ya, you Brits sure gotta strange sense of humour…"

"So what have you got in mind, Tobias?" Sebastian asked warily. He was all too aware of his old friend's capacity for the unconventional. In response, Tobias produced a mobile phone from within his leather jacket.

"I got somethin' special for you, boy…" Tobias promised, dialling a number and lifting the phone to his ear. "… Yo, Slip 'N' Slide! We good to go yet, or are y'all drift nuts still wastin' them new Falkens drawing pretty circles on the blacktop?"

"_Kiss my sushi-eating ass, Lawson_!" The voice that came back was male, possessed an Asian accent, and sounded rather annoyed. "_We got cop action heading this way right now… I hope this boy of yours is worth me spending the night in jail '__cos__ you owe me big time for this one_…"

"Believe me when I say he is," Tobias answered. "You're clutch, boy! I got a Eibach spring kit with your name written all over it…"

Pleased with the status report, Tobias folded up the mobile phone and returned it to his jacket. Turning to the crowd, he opened his arms to attract their attention.

"Okay!" Tobias announced with the air and graces of a propagandist orator. "Get y'all sprint shoes on! We're gonna do a rolling start… You'll run Highway 19 from Sunset Bridge to the meeting point by the old lighthouse up on Ridgeman's Bluff. Marissa'll start you boys off, and the loser will hand over them keys…"

"You been drink-drivin' or something, Lawson?" Walsh laughed contemptuously, getting into his car. "What makes you think I'm gonna lose?"

"What makes you think you're gonna win?" Marissa leapt to Sebastian's defence.

"Cut the schoolyard bullshit!" Tobias barked, instantly silencing the bickering pair. "We ain't got much time! You got the 'Piece', Marissa?"

"In the car, baby…" Marissa winked.

"Outstandin'!" Tobias smiled. "Okay! Let's go! It's time for the main event, people!"

Instantly the crowd dispersed, racers dashing back to their rides in a mad scramble, whooping and cheering in their eagerness to get the show on the road. Within mere moments, the air was filled with the sound of engines as the army of tuners began to file out of the car park, spilling out onto the highway like termites from a nest.

"Get ready to lose your ride, Brit Boy!" Walsh called out from within the Corvette as he drove past Sebastian, pausing for a moment to taunt him. "Gonna teach you a lesson in respect!"

"Personally, I hope you smoke his ass," Tobias remarked to Sebastian, casting a look of irritation at the departing Corvette, Fisher and Minto following close behind in their rides. "That guy is really startin' to piss me off…"

"You may be in for some disappointment," Sebastian said. "It's been a long time since I've raced anyone… I might lose…"

"Don't sweat it; it's just like ridin' a bike…" Tobias smirked, walking back to his waiting BMW as other cars continued to roll past. "You're the Crownless King! Don't disappoint your fans, bro!"

As Tobias started up the German sports car, Marissa pressed a set of keys into Naomi's hand.

"Your turn to drive, Chica…"

"Whatever…" Naomi answered, non-committed.

Naomi gave Sebastian one last despairing look, before sighing deeply and turning to follow Marissa over to the Z4.

"What does that look mean?" Sebastian called, halting Naomi before she could walk away from him.

"For your sake I just hope you're as good as everyone seems to think," Naomi said, shaking her head in resignation. "Because you'll need more than just that Skyline to beat Walsh… I should know…"

"Then I take it you're not one to place your faith in rumours…" Sebastian asked, rather bemused that Naomi didn't appear to share Marissa or Tobias's confidence in his driving skill. Maybe they didn't tell her about his past exploits…

"Don't take this the wrong way," Naomi had an equally bemused expression on her face. "But you don't exactly come off as the racer type… Besides, rumours are exactly what they are. Just rumours…"

"C'mon Chica!" Marissa hollered from her BMW's passenger seat. "Let's go!"

"I'd better go," Naomi said, resuming her steps toward the Z4. "Good luck, Sebastian…"

As Naomi walked away, Sebastian sat back in the Skyline's driver's seat. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, trembling in pure frustration. If he could kick himself, he'd put himself in orbit. All because he'd been blinded by a pretty girl, he'd landed himself in the exact situation he was desperate to avoid Still, there was no use crying about it now. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves for the trials that lay ahead, Sebastian reached forward to twist the ignition key…

_"All __rumours__ are based on fact, Naomi…"_

_To be continued…_

* * *

_As always, please review. Chapter 3 is already under construction; hopefully it won't take as long as this one!_

_Miserable Flesh Creature_


	3. Getting Back In The Fold

**The Fast and the Furious**

The Crownless King

An Original Fan Fiction inspired by the Fast and the Furious

Chapter 3

Getting Back In The Fold/Long Live The King

"You know, one of these days the wind is going to change and your face will be stuck like that…"

From her seat at the wheel of the Z4, Naomi sighed in exasperation once more as, next to her, Marissa struck yet another pose for the flashing cameras of passing racers, soaking up their attention like a sponge. This time the blonde blew an exaggerated kiss at two drooling guys riding a tricked out convertible Honda S2000, their high-pitched wolf-whistles clearly audible above the sound of the engines.

"What's _your_ problem_, _Titbags?" Marissa shot back. "You still burnt that you didn't get to go home with Seb for a little 'bump'n'grind'?"

"I am not!" Naomi stuck her nose up indignantly. "I had no intention of doing that!"

"Yeah, right!" Marissa's tone was one of mock surprise. "As if! You _must_ have the hots for him 'cuz you don't break out that L.B.D. for just anyone. And I _know_ you gave him your special little dance thing… I bet _that _got his rocks off, huh?"

Naomi's response stuck in her throat. Marissa had her there… Of course she had the hots for Sebastian. Why shouldn't she? If she liked a guy she let him know, and her little black dress was the perfect way to go about it…

It was just that Sebastian was so different from Walsh and the rest of the petrol-head fanboy types that pretty much accounted for the entire male population of their little world. Not that it was a bad thing, but Sebastian didn't appear to exhibit the brash confidence common to most racers, his calm and quiet demeanour far removed from Walsh's arrogant swagger. It didn't need to be said that Sebastian was a handsome guy; it was the little things that she liked about him. The way he was so well mannered and courteous toward her, the way he always said 'Please' and 'Thank You' in that sexy English accent of his… Little things like that… It just felt nice to be treated with a little respect for a change after the crap she'd been through with Walsh.

The revelation that Sebastian was in fact this fabled Crownless King everyone had been gossiping about just added to his mystique. She had wondered about that… Why didn't he say anything? If he didn't want her to know he was a racer, why turn up at the club in a Nissan Skyline instead of the Audi she'd ridden in before? With the reputation he appeared to have, she would have expected him to unashamedly brag about it in an effort to impress her, but he kept quiet… And why was he so dead set against racing Walsh? If Sebastian was as shit-hot as everyone seemed to think, if racing was all he had to do to escape a beating, why didn't he agree straight away?

"You know, you really embarrassed me back there…" Naomi moaned. "If you guys already knew each other, why didn't you say something earlier?"

"'Cuz it wouldn't have been funny?" Marissa offered with a sarcastic chuckle, Naomi's annoyance giving her great amusement. "Besides, it's not like I effed things up for you, so chill out, ok... Tobi just wanted to play one of his little games. Gets him hard making Seb jump through hoops. Said something about 'payback' for you and 'collateral' for him… Whatever the hell _that_ means…"

Naomi's eyes went to the rear view mirror, wanting to catch a glimpse of the object of their discussion. Sebastian was still there, the Skyline hanging back a short distance behind the Z4, maintaining his position until the all clear came through from Tobias.

"So what's the story with you guys anyway?" The raven-haired girl was keen to learn more about Sebastian, both to satisfy her own curiosity and to give Marissa's mouth something else to do rather than tease her.

"Me, I first met Seb back in senior high school…" Marissa leant back in her seat, linking her arms behind her head, smiling as she recalled the memories. "We'd just started a new semester and Seb was some transfer student that came in from England. Y'know… The usual types you see in those sappy romcoms you like to watch… Wealthy parents… Sent to boarding school… Typical rich kid…"

"Rich?" Naomi echoed.

"Chica, you wouldn't believe what he's worth!" Marissa suddenly became very animated, sitting up in the seat and grinning like a Cheshire cat at the juicy titbit of Sebastian's background she was about to impart. "His daddy runs one of those huge worldwide corporations that make everything from toasters to tit implants. The guy's _whole_ family is _rolling_ in loot! Seb by himself has got, like, the _lottery jackpot_ sitting in his bank account! There was this one time when I went to an ATM with him and I took a peek at the screen… Damn well nearly peed in my panties when I saw how many zeroes were tagged on the end!"

Naomi had just assumed chauffeurs were very well paid… Sure, Sebastian wore some pretty sharp designer threads and owned, or at least drove, two very expensive cars, so that should have given her some indication…. But she never would have thought he was as flush as Marissa was making out. Maybe she really had underestimated just how modest Sebastian really was…

"And what about the whole Crownless King thing? What's that all about?"

"That's what we used to call him," Marissa continued. "Y'see… Back when Seb used to hang with us, he was untouchable… Best damn racer I _ever_ saw… Everyone knew it… I knew it… Hell, even Tobi had to admit it… The only one who _didn't_ know was Seb himself… Or at least he played it like he didn't…"

"How so?"

"The guy has _no_ ego! You give him props, and he won't take it… Check it out, we used to make an assfull of cash betting on him, but he wouldn't take any for himself…"

"Didn't you just say he was rich? It's not like he would have needed the money, right?"

"That's exactly what we thought too. But then there was the whole chick thing…"

"Chick thing?"

"C'mon Chica..." Marissa's sly grin slipped back into place. "Y'think you're the only one who's hot for him? Lemme tell you, there'll be an army of skanks waiting for him at the finish line, just like always, ready to throw themselves at him like the sluts they are. And you wanna hear the joke part? That doofus won't even do anything! He just stands there, playing all embarrassed like he can't handle female attention… It was cute at first, but it got old real quick…"

"Maybe he's just modest. Or better yet, he's got standards?" Naomi ventured. "Besides, I'm not complaining if he thinks with the brain that's in his head instead of the one that's in his pants."

"Yeah, I'll bet you aren't!" Marissa snorted. "Good luck with that, by the way… There's been a _lotta_ girls who've tried and failed to get Seb in the sack… You manage to crack that bastard and you're gonna have some serious jealousy coming your way…"

"Is some of that jealousy going to come from you?" Naomi retorted immediately, relishing an opportunity to deal Marissa some of her own medicine. "Were _you_ one of those girls that tried and failed?"

"Puh-lease!" Marissa stated as matter-of-factly, hand up in true Valley-Girl style… "If I wanted to get with him, I would've done it way before now… Don't get me wrong, there aren't too many guys that can top Seb in the eye-candy stakes; it's just his personality that gets on my tits sometimes… I like my man to have just that little bit of attitude…. Like Tobi… Speaking of which, where _is_ that asshole?! He's always keeping me waiting! We should have started by now!"

All too familiar with the profanity laden ranting about to explode from Marissa's mouth, the blonde's tolerance of tardiness being almost nil, Naomi turned her attention back to the road ahead, slowly digesting what her friend had just told her.

"So let me get this straight," Naomi started. "You guys call him the Crownless King because he has the skill to be the best racer around, but his modesty keeps him from taking the number one spot?"

"Got it in one," Marissa replied, momentarily distracted from abusing her mobile phone. "It makes me so mad! Seb _knows_ he is _way_ superior compared to all those other pathetic posers, he just doesn't _act_ like it!"

"Is he really that good?"

"He ain't gonna be walking home tonight, count on it…"

"Are you sure?" Naomi still had doubts. "That Skyline doesn't look so impressive to me…"

"Are you kidding?!?" The look of incredulousness on Marissa's face would have been almost comical if Naomi didn't know how deadly serious she was. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've been saying? Let me make this easy for you, Chica… We've just unleashed The Beast! Y'think Walsh has even got a chance? Ha! Believe me when I say Walsh is just the first victim! Now that Seb is back in the saddle, it won't be long before he smokes every racer for a hundred miles…"

"Yeah, right…" Naomi scoffed dismissively. She was also familiar with Marissa's propensity for exaggeration.

"I'm getting real sick of that negative attitude of yours," Marissa folded her arms petulantly, giving her companion an icy glare. Then the proverbial light bulb flashed on as an idea came to her. If she couldn't improve Naomi's sceptical outlook, then she'd sure as hell find a way to benefit from it…

"I'm not being negative," Naomi protested. "I'm just being realistic. Ok, so Sebastian might be as good as you say, but I still know Walsh, and I know he's prepared to do _anything_ to win this race…"

"Ok then… If you're so sure that Walsh is gonna win… You won't say no to a little wager…"

"What kind of wager?"

"_Sucker!" _Marissa grinned inwardly. _"Gets you every time!"_

"Y'know that cute little Fendi clutch bag I got?" The blonde carried on, reeling Naomi in with every word. "The black and gold one? The one that turns your eyes green every time you look at it? I'll put that on the table says Walsh gets his ass stomped…"

"You're not serious," Naomi laughed mockingly. "You'd never give up that thing. You've been surgically attached to it ever since you bought it!"

"I'm _deadly_ serious. Since I'm sure that Seb's gonna win, I'm gonna put my money where my mouth is. Let's see you do the same, Chica…"

Before Naomi could answer Marissa's challenge, the blonde's mobile phone emitted a sharp beeping tone, indicating that she had received a text message. Flipping the Nokia open, Marissa could barely contain her excitement as she read the two simple words on the display…

'_GREEN LIGHT'_

"'Bout time!" Marissa yelled. "It's on now!"

Reaching down into the foot well, Marissa retrieved the all-important 'Piece'… The 'Piece' itself was a high-powered flashlight with a special lens attachment that could alter the colour of the emitted beam. Unhooking her seat belt, Marissa carefully manoeuvred herself until she was kneeling on the seat, facing the rear of the car with her free hand gripping the headrest for stability.

"Slow us down and send the signal, Chica," Marissa commanded. "Now you're gonna see what Crownless is all about…"

*********

"_God, when you were handing out patience, was I at the back of the queue?"_

To say that Sebastian was not happy would be a gross understatement. His evening was progressing quite swimmingly until that prat Walsh turned up, and then events had quickly taken a downward spiral.

Right now they were taking a leisurely cruise along Highway 19 toward Sunset Bridge, the large metal edifice looming large on the horizon. Naomi and Marissa led the pack in the Z4, while he and Walsh followed close behind. The rest of their procession buzzed around the three of them like demented paparazzi, their cameras flashing incessantly as they gathered evidence of their upcoming flagrant disregard for local traffic laws. Understandably, most of these photo-junkies tended to aim their lenses at the BMW, hot girls and fast cars being perfect picture material, but Sebastian also had his fair share of fans, and their antics were doing nothing in the way of improving his already irritated disposition…

He detested rolling start races. They were such messy, needlessly overt affairs, just an opportunity for some Internet geek to post some grainy camera footage onto YouTube. Of course, his complaints didn't really stand up considering the very nature of street-racing itself; it was just that when they'd close off a few blocks with their cars and some stolen road signs, it afforded them at least _some_ degree of privacy… No, rolling starts were far too public for Sebastian's taste. All it would take would be for some law-abiding, goody-two-shoes civvie out for a late-night drive to dial up the police and the shit would really hit the fan… Which was probably what was going to happen anyway… Spending the rest of the night languishing in a police cell was most definitely not on Sebastian's 'To Do' list.

But then Tobias was no fool… He always had some plan up his sleeve, and going by the phone call he made earlier, he'd arranged for a convenient diversion to keep any nearby police patrols occupied. And at almost 2 AM, it wasn't as if there was that much traffic on the streets anyway.

Looking across the empty space that separated them, Sebastian eyed the ZO6 warily. Despite American muscle not being his usual fare when it came to opponents, he knew enough to know that modified or not, the Corvette would be packing at least four hundred horses under the bonnet, making it a fearsome adversary with power and acceleration that were not to be sniffed at. This race was not going to be easy. Walsh must have somehow sensed Sebastian's unease, as his head turned to return Sebastian's gaze with his customary smirk, drawing his finger across his neck in a throat-cutting gesture while mouthing the words _'You're dead'._

"_We'll see about that…"_

Like water from a duck's back, Sebastian ignored the taunts, turning back to the road ahead. Or more accurately, his eyes went to the driver of the BMW Z4 on the road ahead…

There was no doubt that Naomi was the reason why Sebastian was in his current predicament. Of course, messing with another man's woman was bound to get him in trouble, but now that he'd had time to think about it, he'd realized that his reason for participating in this race had quickly become a whole lot more personal…

In all his time carrying the title of the Crownless King, back when he was at the top of the street-racing pecking order, one thing he refused to do was to let it go to his head. Like his obscene personal fortune, he'd never let his fame lead him down the path of arrogance. Obviously Sebastian was aware that he was a good driver, he just didn't feel the need to shout it from the rooftops. Most people who knew of the Crownless King would disagree with him, but Sebastian regarded his driving ability as something that came naturally, nothing out of the ordinary or special; and thusly did not expect, demand nor crave the adulation heaped upon him by his peers.

But within the short amount of time that he'd known her, Naomi had somehow changed all that… Being confronted with her doubt and apparent lack of confidence in his abilities had definitely touched a nerve, as much as it made him feel uncomfortable in admitting it to himself. His male pride, his sense of competitiveness; they were always suppressed by his greater sense of modesty, but now Naomi had re-ignited that spark within…

It certainly was frustrating… Why was it that certain women could get under his skin so easily? Marissa positively revelled in yanking his chains; and it was to Sebastian's eternal chagrin that she was _still _able to. But he'd only known Naomi for mere hours, and she'd unknowingly added herself to the elite pantheon of 'Those Who Can Wind Up Sebastian Pardue'.

Maybe it was because of the attraction he felt toward her… And lo! Here was a chance for some testosterone fuelled male posturing! Impress the girl by defeating her ex-lover in a duel! Although Sebastian could appreciate the opportunity, that wasn't really his style… Or maybe it was because she was ignorant of the whole Crownless King mythos, Tobias and Marissa appearing to have kept Naomi in the dark…

All he knew for certain was that he was determined to show Naomi that, even though he tended not to play up his sizable reputation, it was not something to be taken lightly. Doubt, fear and uncertainty were things that held people back from achieving their goals, and when someone expressed these things in Sebastian himself, it was enough to drive him up the wall…

"_Have you listened to yourself, Pardue?! Getting wound up by a girl you hardly know?! There's no time for this! Get serious!"_

As if to echo his mental admonishment, the Z4 suddenly gave three sharp blasts on its horn while at the same time flashing its hazard lights, letting all present know that the race was now ready to begin. Marissa had turned in her seat, facing toward him and holding what appeared to be some kind of torch in her free hand. The horde of other racers, not directly involved in the race itself, took this as their cue to cease their current behaviour, disengaging and accelerating away into the distance. Most would proceed to the finish line to await the eventual winner, but some would lurk further up the highway in what they liked to call 'Front Row Seats'.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Sebastian prepared his pre-race mantra. Every racer had one, and Sebastian was no different. Making the sign of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost on his body, Sebastian offered up an unspoken prayer. He wasn't the fanatically devout type, but Sebastian firmly believed that God was definitely watching over him in _some_ way… How else could he have risked life and limb so regularly and come away unscathed every time?

Ahead, the Z4's brake lights flashed, and Sebastian followed the instruction, the Skyline's speedo needle falling to around the '30' mark. Sebastian took up his start position behind and to the left of the BMW, the Nissan's front bumper in line with the Z4'S rear. On the right side of the road, Walsh adopted a similar position, and they were ready… Marissa flicked the torch on, its crimson glow shining bright against the darkness of the night sky.

"_Game time, Pardue… Ready…."_

The torch blinked off, then on again. Still red… Sebastian's fingers flexed in anticipation…

"_Set…"_

Sebastian's foot twitched in its impatience to press down on the accelerator pedal… Once more, Marissa flicked the light off, and when she switched it on again, it was bright green… Green for…

"_Go!"_

Sebastian's foot stamped down hard, and the Skyline shot forward, the explosive acceleration like a square kick to the behind…

"_Here we go again..."_

*********

"Yeah! Woohoo!" Marissa screamed at the top of her lungs, fist pumped enthusiastically in the air as she whirled around to watch the two silver sports cars fly past her Z4. "Go Crownless! Kick his sorry ass!"

When she could see them no longer, Marissa flopped back down in her seat with a gentle bump.

"This is _so_ awesome!" Marissa rubbed her hands in glee. "Walsh is _so_ dead! So, Miss Cynical… You still up for that little bet?"

She hadn't meant to sound so pessimistic before... In fact, Naomi did indeed hope that Sebastian would win, and she wished she could share the blonde's abundant enthusiasm, But she'd seen Walsh in action too many times to think that Sebastian would just simply roll him over… Walsh undoubtedly possessed plenty of skill, but that skill was married to a ruthless streak that felt no remorse in employing more underhanded methods to win his races. The last guy that Walsh beat ended up as a smoking wreck at the side of the road with a face full of airbag, and that was a fate she would not wish upon anyone, least of all Sebastian…

"If only to shut you up..." Naomi remarked acidly, her face twisting in irritation. "What are you after?"

"Well, I got a new dress from that last photo shoot I did," Marissa smirked triumphantly. "And I think those Jimmy Choo sandals of yours should be a perfect match…"

Naomi cast her friend the most baleful glare… This was all Marissa's fault! Naomi felt really bad for betting against Sebastian, but Marissa's constant goading and teasing had finally worn down her resistance. At least she could draw comfort from the fact that Marissa was unaware that she'd broken the heels on those same sandals the night she met Sebastian. So, if he did win this race and she lost the bet, it wasn't a total loss…

"_That'll teach her... Stupid bimbo..."_

*********

"_Shit! That was a close one! God, get these stupid idiots out of the way!"_

Close wasn't the word. The Mitsubishi Eclipse seemed to come out of nowhere, swerving　dangerously into the Skyline's path to avoid the onrushing Corvette coming up from behind it. Sebastian had to swerve just as suddenly to prevent a collision, scant millimetres between the two cars as he flew past. Any closer and they would have been trading more than insurance details…

Sebastian cursed. This really wasn't good at all… It looked like he really was telling the truth when he'd said he'd might lose. Sebastian's shifting was way off, his timing messed up from lack of practice, and he'd fallen behind. The ZO6 was a short distance ahead, its four rear lights glowing against the starry blackness of the night.

Now that he was free from the gaggle of racers desperate to enlarge his internet portfolio, Sebastian shifted up into third; the Skyline's engine note rising steadily as he poured on the power. A little shift of the steering, and Sebastian was in Walsh's slipstream, pulling up close to the Corvette's rear bumper.

Up again into fourth, Sebastian remained glued to Walsh's behind as they blasted down the asphalt. At the speeds they were doing, the surrounding cityscape simply melted into a kaleidoscopic blur. Sebastian was content to remain in his current position, letting the Corvette do all the work while he reaped the benefits of aerodynamic physics.

Despite his earlier reluctance to race, Sebastian could not deny that racing was once central to his life, and when he gave it up, a small part of him had genuinely regretted that decision. But this one little taste of speed, flavoured with the throat-drying fear that came with the possibility of losing his beloved Skyline, was all the motivation he needed...

Sensing an opportunity, Sebastian broke left in an attempt to pass, Walsh quickly coming across to block. They jockeyed for position at breakneck velocity, ignoring the horn blowing of any outraged civilians as bridges and tunnels zipped by in mere moments. Tires screeched as the cars zigzagged sharply across the lanes, snaking past the civvies as if it were a ski slalom course. The highway was their own personal playground now, all respect for the law and fellow man thrown out of the window.

Another shift of the gears brought the Skyline up into fifth, the speedometer needle past one fifty and showing no signs of stopping. A combination of civilian traffic and Walsh's driving skill had prevented Sebastian from overtaking, but he was not perturbed. This first section of the race was long and over open highway, so there would be ample chances to try again. As long as Sebastian got in front by the time they reached the turn-off for Ridgeman's Bluff, he was confident he would taste victory.

So when two more civvie cars appeared on the horizon, Sebastian had no idea how much grief they would bring him. Almost immediately, the ZO6 leapt forward, rapidly pulling away as if Walsh had engaged nitrous, leaving Sebastian eating dust. The Corvette blew through the gap between the two cars, and immediately they closed ranks to block off all three lanes. As Sebastian got closer, he could see that the 'civvies' were in fact Walsh's minions, Fisher and Minto; involving themselves in the race to aid their master.

Trying to pass one opponent at high speed was taxing enough, but to pass two working in unison against you was almost impossible. Sebastian tried every feint and trick to try and pass, but they offered him no success. The Pontiac and the Mustang blocked him at every turn, almost forcing him into the crash barriers were it not for some skilled driving… Sebastian's worry quickly escalated as his side of the highway suddenly shrunk to only two lanes in width, the two American cars now forming a virtually impassable moving wall in front of the Skyline. If Walsh got too far ahead, it would be over.

But then Sebastian saw his chance. The narrowing of the highway indicated that they were approaching an area of the city known as North Point. The local geography dictated that the highway be separated; the two lanes of highway they were on leading away from Ridgeman's Bluff and around the far side of North Point, before turning sharply back toward the lighthouse, while oncoming traffic came from a winding but shorter and more direct route around the near side. He remembered that just before the road forked into its respective courses, there was a gap in the crash barrier, and this was what Sebastian was aiming for.

_"Mother, I hope you're watching over me from Heaven, because if you're not I just might be joining you…"_

Sebastian tightened his grip on the steering, counting off the seconds in his mind as the Skyline bore down on the gap in the barriers. Only the suicidal would attempt this during the day, but at this time of night, his absolutely idiotic idea may just succeed. A sharp intake of breath, a quick flick of the wheel, and then Sebastian was through the gap and into the opposite lanes.

Now it_ really _was heart-in-mouth time…

Almost instantly, Sebastian's vision was filled with the bright glare of oncoming headlights, his instincts taking over as he pulled hard on the wheel to avoid colliding with the very large articulated truck coming the other way. Within a second he was past it, and it was no small sigh of relief that escaped his lips as he watched the truck shrink in his rear-view mirror.

The adrenaline was really flowing now, and that..._ feeling_... had returned. This was it... This was the _only_ thing racing held for him. He didn't care about the money, the girls, the bragging rights... If he was the Crownless King, then _this _was his kingdom... This realm of super-awareness where his senses were so sharp that answers came without thinking and his reactions were quicker still...

Sebastian's head was cool and his footwork was deft as the Skyline surged down the exact middle of the road like a silver missile. Lady Luck seemed to have truly smiled on him; after that initial pant-shittingly narrow escape, there appeared to be no oncoming traffic at all. The turns were fast, Sebastian's brow furrowing in determined concentration, feeling the caress of g-forces pressing him into the seat as he expertly guided the Nissan on its reckless and dangerous course.

"_Last turn, last turn…"_

Accelerator pressed firmly to the floor, the Skyline screamed through the final bend, the highway straightening out as it began to converge on the other side of North Point. For a short distance, there was no barrier on this particular section, Sebastian swinging back over to the correct lane.

Scanning the road ahead, Sebastian caught no sign of the Corvette, the highway being clear as far as he could see. Unless Walsh had warp drive installed in his car, there was no way he could have opened up such a lead as to be completely out of sight. When he glanced up at the rear view mirror to check behind him, Sebastian's eyes abruptly grew to the size of dinner plates…

"_He would never…"_

He would… There was no time for any evasive manoeuvres. The Skyline reverberated with a resounding crash as Walsh rear-ended him, the impact jolting Sebastian forward in his seat. Sebastian recovered quickly, but Walsh was already alongside, the ZO6 swerving across to smash into the Skyline broadside. When Walsh broke away, he left the side of the Skyline a twisted patchwork of scratches and dents.

"_What the hell?!? This guy is out of his mind!"_

This was new... What the hell was this?! Had he missed something? Had the unwritten rules of street racing changed while he was gone? Was it now deemed acceptable to attempt to ram your opponent off the road? In his day, Sebastian had fended off more challengers than he'd care to remember, but this was his first time up against someone clearly willing to wreck _both _their cars in their desire to win.

The Skyline shook once more as Walsh slammed into him again, but this time the Corvette did not withdraw. Sebastian's blood ran cold in his veins as he realized what Walsh was about to do. Glancing to his right, Sebastian could see Walsh's hate-filled sneer as the American pulled hard over on his wheel, the Corvette forcing the Skyline toward the crash barrier. Sebastian wrenched his steering to try and push back, but it was futile…

A cascade of sparks rained down onto the road as the Skyline came into contact with the barrier, scraping along the metal at over one hundred miles per hour. A horrendous rending screech assaulted Sebastian's ears; if his hands were not required to grip the steering wheel, he would have used them to block out the sound, but at the same time this sound galvanised him into action. The Skyline's tires squealed in protest as Sebastian applied the brakes, causing the Corvette to overshoot, while fighting with the steering wheel to extricate the car from the barrier's magnet-like grip.

Working his way free, Sebastian almost missed the road sign that whizzed past overhead; 'RIDGEMAN'S BLUFF NEXT EXIT'. Up ahead, the ZO6 veered across the highway toward the off ramp, and Sebastian followed, almost stomping the pedal through the floorboard in his effort to gain ground.

Now came the part Sebastian was dreading... Tobias had stitched him up something proper... The ascent to the lighthouse on Ridgeman's Bluff would take the two racers up a narrow mountain road that was full of tight turns and u-bends, an absolute haven for those of the drifting persuasion...

If there was one part of Sebastian's game that was lacking, it was his ability to drift. Sebastian had never seen the attraction. He could appreciate its merits, but drifting was a sub-set of street racing that held little interest for him; Sebastian being more of a 'get from A to B as fast as possible' type of guy. The fact that he drove a Nissan Skyline, already considered a poor choice for a drift car, didn't help much either…

The first bend, a hard left-hander, came up fast, and Sebastian took it like a pro, working the gears and brakes in unison to take the Skyline smoothly through the turn. Walsh predictably took the drifting approach, the Corvette sliding across the tarmac as if it were wearing ice skates instead of tires. They exited the turn virtually neck-and-neck, blazing side-by-side down the following straight.

Another turn, and then another, and still the status quo remained. Sebastian seemed to have the edge on the straights, but he had to slow right down to take the turns, allowing Walsh to close the gap. Sebastian had to think of something quick; there weren't many turns left before they reached the lighthouse, and at this rate, defeat was a distinct possibility.

Walsh must have had the same thoughts in his head as Sebastian, as he resumed his efforts to reduce the Skyline to a heap of wreckage. There were no guard barriers here, the Skyline's tires spinning on the loose gravel as Walsh pushed him precariously close to the road's edge. One error in judgement, or one forceful enough impact from the Corvette, and Sebastian would be sent plummeting to his doom on the jagged rocks some hundred feet below. It was testament to both his skill and his nerves that Sebastian was able to keep the Skyline steady despite Walsh's constant battering.

"_If this guy touches me again, I swear I'll…"_

The next turn was fast approaching, a hairpin that passed through a tunnel carved out of the mountainside, and Sebastian lined up his car to take it as quickly as possible. Walsh, not wanting to drift around this particular bend, broadsided the Skyline again to force it off the 'racing line' so he could take it himself. The Skyline's wing mirror took the brunt of the collision, leaving it hanging limply from the side of the car as the passing ZO6 ripped it from its mounting.

That was it… Sebastian had had enough…

Absolutely livid, Sebastian struck back. The front corner of the Skyline connected with the Corvette's rear quarter panel just as Walsh entered the bend, the Skyline's right headlight shattering on impact. Sebastian steered sharply into the ZO6, shunting it sideways and causing its rear wheels to lose traction. Walsh, focused on taking the turn, was both not expecting and completely unprepared for Sebastian's attack. Vainly he attempted to correct his now skidding Corvette, but it was too late.

Swerving around the out of control Corvette, Sebastian didn't even look back as he overtook Walsh and roared down the tunnel. The ZO6 fishtailed wildly across the lanes, before it's spinning dance was brought to an abrupt and unceremonious halt by the tunnel wall.

With a free run to the finish, Sebastian floored it. Walsh really would need warp drive to catch up now…

*********

By the time Sebastian brought the Skyline to a skidding halt past the finish line, he was incandescent with rage. He couldn't any care less about the mass throng of racers crowding around his car; eager to express their delight in the entertainment he had supplied them. He didn't care about the legion of lust-crazed nubile young women who would no doubt be clamouring for his attention; all of them keen to discover if his prowess between the sheets matched his prowess behind the wheel.

All these things were completely irrelevant right now. The only thing that concerned him was the Skyline and the harm wrought upon it by that fucking lunatic. Even the mere prospect of surveying the damage was causing his stomach to perform more somersaults than an Olympic gymnast…

Right now, at this period of his life, the Skyline claimed more of his trust and faith than any flesh and blood human being could ever hope to gain from him. More than once, his car had been the only thing standing between him and complete ruin. The slightest scratches, the smallest dents, all were taken as both insult_ and_ injury.

"_Come on, Pardue… It's like an RTA. You know you shouldn't stare, but you always do in the end…"_

Normally, the noise generated by a racer crowd united in celebration would be almost deafening in its volume and almost religious in its fervour... But to Sebastian, when he finally plucked up the courage to emerge, that was all it was, simple noise... Even as they flocked around his car, Sebastian completely dismissed them; angrily pushing away the extended hands and pieces of paper being thrust in his direction. Closing the door, he took a step back to get a full view.

The Skyline's rear bumper was virtually pulverised, reduced to a warped, mangled mess by the attentions of the Corvette. Numerous dents and scratches of varying sizes littered the driver's side of the cars' bodywork; the chrome rims also having received similar treatment. The front headlight wasn't as bad as he thought, but his broken mirror had eventually fallen off, and he'd also lost the right side bumper canard. Sebastian couldn't face taking a look at the passenger side, where Walsh had forced him to get intimate with the highway crash barrier.

Well and truly overwhelmed, Sebastian was speechless, staring mutely at his wounded dream machine. Even the crowd had fallen silent once they'd realised that Sebastian was in no mood to celebrate. Some of them, the crash-fans who liked a little demolition derby with their street-racing and would always chortle heartily at the sight of a wrecked car… Even they weren't laughing now.

The fury that was building inside Sebastian was unbelievable. His fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists tight, barely containing the boiling rage that was threatening to wrest control. There had only ever been one other moment in his life where he'd felt anger that matched this, and having _that_ particular thought in his head was simply adding fuel to his fire… A vicious circle that would end in only one fashion…

"See?!?! How d'you like them apples?!" Tobias' grin was as wide as a Veilside Fortune full body kit, Naomi and Marissa at his sides as he emerged from the crowd to applaud Sebastian on his victory. "Ain't that some drivin' for yo ass?! Not even Walsh can match the Crownless King! Man, Pardue is so awesome; his ass should be on Pay-Per-View!"

Tobias was used to dealing with the Sebastian of old, the Sebastian whose responses would be laced with modesty and embarrassment whenever he was showered with praise... So when Sebastian refused to respond at all, remaining as silent as the grave, Tobias was understandably confused. Approaching his younger friend, Tobias wrapped an arm around Sebastian's shoulders.

"I see you still got mad skills, bro…" Tobias cooed, patting Sebastian on the chest. Then he saw the Skyline, eyes widening as he took in the full extent of the punishment inflicted on Sebastian's car…

"Whoa… That is _not_ cool…" Tobias stated the blindingly obvious. "But don't sweat it Pardue… Bring her on over to me tomorrow and we'll get her fixed better than Marissa on a magazine shoot…"

"I don't need your help…!" Sebastian hissed, the venom in his voice all too clear despite his low whispering.

Tobias recoiled slightly, unprepared for Sebastian's sudden hostility. Naomi, like the rest of the crowd, remained impassive, content to watch events unfold. The only person present who possessed any inkling as to what was_ really_ happening was Marissa…

She knew exactly what was going on in Sebastian's head. She'd seen this before a long time ago and the warning signs were unmistakeable. Sebastian was usually so calm, but once aroused, his ire was most definitely something to be feared. She'd had firsthand experience, and thanks to that experience, Marissa knew that Sebastian was _way_ beyond pissed, the anger radiating from him being almost tangible. Right now, she compared Sebastian to a waiting bomb, primed and ready to detonate…

And then the trigger arrived…

As if they were one singular entity, all present turned their heads at the sound of another car engine, Walsh finally pulling up in the ZO6. Although it sported a fair amount of damage to its front end, the Corvette still looked to be in better condition than the ravaged Skyline. Walsh emerged from the car, turning the air blue with some particularly colourful curses while aiming a swift kick of disgust at the Corvette's front wheel.

As soon as Sebastian's eyes locked onto Walsh, he leapt into action. In the blink of an eye he covered the short distance between them and, before the startled Walsh could even react, Sebastian unleashed a vicious right hook that caught Walsh flush on the jaw, simultaneously drawing forth a grunt of pain from the American and a gasp of joyous surprise from the crowd.

Walsh went down like a ton of bricks, but Sebastian was in no way finished with him. The red mist was still in complete control and he wanted blood. Crouching down, Sebastian's left hand seized Walsh by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the asphalt, only to send him back there with another punishing right…

"You fucking lunatic!!!" Sebastian screamed. "Were you trying to kill me?!?! I'm going to rip your fucking head off!!!"

"Seb _is_ gonna kill him, y'know…" Marissa pointed out, a particularly brutal punch from Sebastian bringing cheers from the assembled onlookers. "Don't you think you should _do_ something, Tobi?"

"Nope..." Tobias replied, completely straight faced and without an ounce of compassion. "Guy deserves it... If he did that to my ride, I'd kick shit outta him too..."

Fisher and Minto, seeing their leader in such dire straits, moved to aid him, but Tobias fixed them with a stern glare that rooted them to the spot. He was the 'Boss', and a simple gaze of displeasure was sufficient to drive all thoughts of interference from their minds.

"Aren't you going to stop him!?" Naomi asked, horrified at the spectacle before her. She was completely stunned at the transformation that had come over Sebastian. Of course, she was in total agreement with Tobias in that Walsh deserved everything that was coming to him, but witnessing the normally reserved Brit relentlessly pummelling Walsh into the tarmac, his face a rictus of snarling fury, was more than a tad unsettling.

"Hell no!" Tobias chuckled. The chat show crowd goading was in full effect, and like them, he was deriving great enjoyment watching the ass-kicking taking place before them. "They're grown men… I say let 'em go…"

"Tobi!" Marissa glared daggers at her lover before flashing her eyes toward the brawling pair.

"Ok, ok…" Tobias grumbled as he got the message loud and clear. "Was jus' gettin' good too…"

Sebastian managed to get in one final blow to Walsh's jaw, a sharp pain lancing through his hand on impact, before he felt Tobias' arms slip under his own, forcibly hauling him off his prone enemy.

"Okay, Pardue…" Tobias said as Sebastian bucked and kicked like a wild animal. "That's enough…"

"Get off of me, Tobias!" Sebastian growled, twisting and squirming in his attempt to escape.

"Relax!" Tobias barked. "Don't push it! You already got speedin', dangerous drivin' and a whole host of other shit on your rap sheet tonight… You wanna put murder on there too? Chill the fuck out! I'll handle this..."

Sebastian took Tobias' words like tonic, and ceased his struggling, the older man releasing his hold once he was confident Sebastian wouldn't explode again. Now that the threat to their master had been removed, Fisher and Minto dashed to Walsh's side, helping the dazed and battered man to his feet. Sebastian had landed at least five solid punches, parts of the American's face already beginning to darken and bruise. Walsh spat out a gobbet of blood along with what appeared to be a tooth, and when he looked up, Marissa was standing in front of him, arm and palm outstretched as if expecting payment…

"Keys…" Marissa said simply.

"What?"

"Did that beatdown you just get eff up your memory?" Marissa laughed. "You lost… Keys…"

"No way I'm givin' you my wheels," Walsh spat, glaring at Sebastian. "Not to you or that cheap shot sonovabitch!"

Sebastian stepped forward, ready to administer yet more beatings, but Tobias stopped him with his arm.

"You jus' don't get it, do you Walsh?" Tobias' tone conveyed genuine disappointment, his expression not unlike a teacher who was tired of dealing with a perennial underachiever. "There's your whole problem right there... You got no respect. This game is _all_ about the respect; you give it, you get it... Ain't that right people?"

Tobias' arms opened wide as the crowd confirmed his statement with a roar of concurrence.

"You disrespected Naomi..." Tobias continued. "And she dumped your ass... You disrespected m'man Pardue's skills and you got smoked... You disrespected m'man's ride and you got your ass handed to you... You see the pattern here?"

Tobias then strode right up to Walsh, getting right up in his face, Walsh taking an uneasy step backward. Tobias' face still had that disappointed look, but Walsh could not mistake the fires of anger blazing in his eyes.

"And when you come out with your cry-baby bullshit... Talkin' to Marissa that way... Not only are you disrespectin' all our guests here, you're disrespectin' _me. _And you know I don't take _that_ shit lyin' down. So I'm gonna give you a choice... Either you give up them keys, or you'll only be drivin' wheelchairs from now on..."

Tobias spoke about choice, but Walsh knew that in no uncertain terms did he really have one... The truth cut to the bone, and with his words, Tobias had turned the entire crowd against him. After already taking a heavy beating, Walsh doubted he could take Tobias; plus there was no guarantee that Sebastian or even the crowd wouldn't want to get some licks in either... So, without protest or defiance, Walsh dropped the Corvette's keys into Tobias' waiting palm.

"Good choice..." Tobias smiled.

"This ain't over, Lawson..." Walsh hissed through bloodied teeth. "You'll pay for this... You and the Brit Boy over there... You're gonna pay..."

"Whatever, man..." Tobias laughed, taunting Walsh by twirling the ZO6's keys on his finger. "Y'gotta get a new ride first. Besides, you're done racin' round here so good luck with that one."

Put firmly in his place, Walsh could do nought but skulk away, the crowd's scornful laughter aimed at his departing back.

Turning to Sebastian, Tobias offered him the keys to the ZO6.

"Here you go, bro," Tobias smiled, thumbing over his shoulder at the Corvette. "She's all yours…"

"I don't want it…"

"C'mon… I know she ain't no Skyline, but she's one helluva sweet ride… Or she will be once we ger her fixed up..."

"Don't you understand?!?" Sebastian blew his top once more, but fortunately this time his physical outburst was limited to angrily slapping the Corvette's keys out of Tobias' hand. "I don't care about that bloody car! I never did! The only reason I even took part in this whole stupid affair was because I had no choice! But now that it's done, I'm done…"

With that, Sebastian stalked off toward the Skyline, left hand gently cradling his injured right against his chest, cursing heavily under his breath.

"Hey!" Tobias called after him. "Stick around, bro... The party's jus' gettin' started. The 'Crownless King Comeback Tour' starts _toonite!_ Can't have a party without the guest of honour…"

"Tell it to someone who cares, Tobias... I'm leaving." Sebastian wanted no further part in tonight's debacle. "I have to get my car home before the police stop me and start asking questions… Tonight has been a lot more trouble than it was worth…"

If Sebastian were more perceptive, he would have seen Naomi wince ever so slightly at his words, as if she'd taken what he'd said personally. Maybe she did, but he wasn't paying attention; his only priority at that moment was getting away from this circus... He was tired, the adrenaline rush was wearing off and the dull throbbing in his right hand was gradually worsening. He'd be paying the price tomorrow, that was for sure... Getting into the Skyline and gunning the engine, Sebastian paused to allow the crowd to disperse from his intended path before rolling the Nissan past the stationary Corvette and accelerating away into the distance.

"That went well, huh?" Marissa remarked dryly, watching the Skyline's brake lights fade from a bright ruby to a dull crimson as it descended the mountain road. "Nice going, Tobi..."

Marissa's words reeked of sarcasm, and he knew she was pissed with the way things had played out, but Tobias didn't rise to her bait. Reaching down to retrieve the ZO6's keys, he flashed Marissa a knowing smile full of pearly whites.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout it... Trust me, he'll be back..."

_To be continued..._


End file.
